


Heartbeat

by after_avenging_hours



Series: Hearts Soulmate AU [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 05:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14098476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/after_avenging_hours/pseuds/after_avenging_hours
Summary: Soulmate AU where two soulmates share a heartbeat.  They race in times of joy, slow in times of sadness, skip together when excited.  However, this means that they both must stop together, too.  What happens when one heart is repeatedly frozen in ice and thawed with decades in between?





	1. Chapter 1

A heartbeat.  One of the most recognizable sensations and sounds. That unmistakable pounding in your chest.  The teller of emotions.  The provider of life.  The home of your soul.  From the moment you were born, your heartbeat was linked to another’s.  Destined to beat in tandem.  To rush in moments of joy, to slow in moments of sadness.  Every emotion shared.

Such a beautiful thought. At least, in theory.  But then comes the pain.  The fear.  The ache. And the harshest of all… the last beat, before it all stops.

You were born March 10, 1917.  Your heart linked to an unknown face, in a sea of individuals.  Growing up, you knew he must be a mischievous one, with the amount of times he sent your heart into a frenzy.  You would always wonder if he was doing it on purpose, or if he was just always up to something.  In high school, you would constantly find your heart bursting with adrenaline, and you would feel the fight or flight response over coming you.  All you could really do was hope that your soulmate was a defender and not a bully.  You didn’t really know how you would deal with it if he was the later.

Years passed without either of you finding each other.  Every once in a while, you’d feel a flutter in your chest that would make you wonder just what he was up to this time.  It would always make you smile.  You wondered where he could be in the world and if you would ever meet him.  It wasn’t as common as most people would have liked, but you never wanted to give up hope.

When the war hit, the country was thrust into a dark place.  Sending troops overseas not only endangers the soldiers, but also those that possess a mate.  Several deaths ended up resulting in twice the number of casualties.  And the real problem is that the female wouldn’t even know she was in danger until it was too late.  There were so many incidents occurring in the states of women dropping down like flies, being completely unable to do anything to protect her own life.

You knew the exact moment your mate had officially joined the war.  The pounding in your chest exploded into a series of spasms unlike anything you had ever felt before.  It didn’t take you long to realize that your mate was feeling true fear for the first time in his life.  And honestly, that scared the crap out of  _you_  as well.  Feeding off his fear, you nearly pushed the both of you into a panic attack, before you realized that doing so would not be helpful at all, and could very well result in getting the both of you killed.

Closing your eyes, you took in several deep breaths, trying with all your might to slow your heartbeat, hoping that doing so would help to calm down your mate and give him the strength he needed to fight whatever he was facing.  It seemed to work, when the fast, unsteady pace, soon slowed into more of a determined beat.

You feel a small jolt in your chest.  The feeling of a skip.  You smiled, knowing exactly what message he was trying to send.   _Thank you_.  Your own heart skips in response.

Not wanting him to go through this blasted war on his own, you join the effort.  You become a combat nurse, and a damn good one, at that.  It helps ease your mind, knowing that you are doing your part.  However, it also kills you inside, knowing that there’s a possibility that the man you lose results in another loss somewhere else in the world.  The only comfort you get in those times is the steadiness of your mate’s beating heart.  Knowing that he’s out there somewhere fighting just as hard as you are, it gives you incentive to never give up.

You’re checking up on a few of your patients when it finally happens…  You feel the normal rush that comes when he’s in a fight.  But after an extended amount of time, your heartbeat flies into a flurry.  Your hands begin to shake so bad that you drop your clip board.  One hand flies to your chest, where your heart is knocking against your ribcage so hard that it actually hurts.  You immediately know that something is wrong.

“Y/N?  Are you alright?” one of the other nurses asks, looking at you curiously.

“I-It’s  _him_.  I think he’s in trouble.”

Understanding flashes through her eyes before worry sets in.

You feel a sense of dread completely overcome you right before your heartbeat stops.  You release a choked gasp, hand clutching your chest. You desperately try to get your heart going again with sheer will power.  You feel a series of pitiful spasms deep within your chest, before the blackness begins to surround your gaze.  A blast of ice shoots through your veins, an affect from your mate’s current situation.  Your knees become week and soon the world begins to tilt.  The last bit of breath leaves your lungs right before everything becomes dark.


	2. Chapter 2

Your mind suddenly jumpstarts as you gasp for breath.  Your heart is pounding a hundred miles per minute.  Your eyes shoot open, looking around wildly.  You’re sprawled out on the hospital floor, two nurses hovering over you.

“What’s happening?” you struggle to speak.  Everything hurts and all you want to do is crawl back into the safety of darkness.

“We gave you a shot of epinephrine.  Stay with us, Y/N.  Keeping you alive maybe the only way to help your mate.”

“I’m so cold…” you shiver, your mind fazing in and out.

“Focus, Y/N.  Keep your heart beating.”

“Let’s move her to one of the beds,” one of the doctors speaks, bending down to lift your body into his arms.

The movement makes your head swim.  It’s taking all of your will power just to keep your eyes open.  You blearily wonder what could be happening to your poor mate. You hope that there’s someone out there looking out for him.  If not, then the efforts of your coworkers will be all for nothing.

Your mind hangs in a state of limbo for what feels like hours.  You fluctuate between wanting to give up and being determined not to for the sake of your mate.  You don’t know how long you can keep this up, but if it’s the only thing keeping him alive, you know that you have to.

Your eyes close and you feel your mind beginning to drift, once again.  Your heart beat slows.  You can feel your body losing this fight.  You’re just about to accept the loss of this battle when pain explodes in your chest.

Your eyes fly open, back arching as an inhuman cry leaves your lips.  It feels like a bolt of lightning striking though your body.  The pain momentarily jumpstarts your heart, but it quickly begins to fade once more.  Another jolt invades your system, this one even more painful than the last.

The doctor and nurses start screaming in panic, not knowing what is happening.  Their words all jumble together in your ears.  Tears are running down your face from the pain of it all. Now you wish that you actually  _had_  given up.  Another jolt followed by another wrenching scream.

The pain in your chest is so great, that you don’t even notice the pinch in your arm when one of the nurses injects you with a sedative.  The darkness settles in rather quickly, and this time you’re grateful for it. You provide no resistance, welcoming the dark to escape the pain.

Over the next few months, you begin to wish that nurse had never given you the shot of adrenaline. When you’re not unconscious, your heart is in a constant state of fear and panic.  It doesn’t take you long to figure out that your mate has been captured as a prisoner of war.  You can feel them torturing him, though you have no idea what exactly they are doing. You feel the bolts of electricity in your chest every time they push him too far, and they need to bring him back.

You wish there was something you could do to help, but your body is so fatigued, that you just don’t have the strength.  At one point, you were in so much pain that you begged one of the nurses to kill you. It would be doing both yourself and him a favor.  The sweet release of nothingness was so much better than what they could be doing to him. She looked at you with so much pity, before walking away.

At one point, you feel the sensation of ice running through your veins, much like it had the first time your heart stopped.  You notice your heartbeat slow dramatically.  It becomes impossible to keep your eyes open.  You feel a momentary sense of relief, believing that you’ve finally been given the break you were looking for.  You welcome the darkness with open arms.

* * *

When you next wake up, you don’t recognize the room you’ve been placed in.  They must have switched hospitals while you were asleep.  You release a tired groan, feeling the soreness in your muscles as if they’ve been stationary for a long period of time. Your heartbeat suddenly begins to pound erratically in your chest.  You look around for the danger, but when you don’t see anything unusual, you realize that it must be from your mate.

The machine next to you begins to blare loudly, causing you to jump.  A few seconds later, a woman swiftly enters the room.  She seems to be dressed as a nurse, but her uniform is slightly different from the ones your companions and yourself used to wear. Her eyes widen in surprise when she finds you staring back at her.  “You’re awake!”

You look at her in confusion, wondering why she would look so shocked.

“I… I’m going to go get the doctor,” still staring at you, she reaches for the door handle, missing a few times before finally breaking her gaze to grasp it and leave.

The machine continues to beep do to your hastened heart rate, and quickly becomes annoying.  Closing your eyes, you concentrate on your breathing, trying to slow your heartbeat and calm down your mate.  The beat slowly begins to even out, finally normalizing enough to get the machine to stop.  You release a sigh of relief.

Your eyes open once again when you hear someone enter the room.  The doctor seems just as surprised as the nurse when he sees that you’re awake. “Miss. Y/L/N!” he fumbles for his clipboard and pen and immediately begins to write something down.  “How are you feeling?” he asks, stepping up to your bed.

You open your mouth to speak, only to realize just how dry your throat is.  “Can I get some water?” you ask hoarsely.

“Yes!  Of course!” he nods enthusiastically, moving back to the door to call out to a nurse.  He comes back to your bedside and begins his examination.  “Any pain or numbness?”  You shake your head.  “Difficulty breathing?”  You shake your head again.  “How about musculature?  Can you move all your limbs, wiggle your fingers and toes?”

You try to move around to answer his question.  “My muscles are a little stiff, but yes it would appear that everything moves,” you respond, voice still hoarse.

He nods, quickly jotting down notes.  The nurse then enters the room, carrying a tray with a cup and pitcher of water. She sets the tray down on the table beside your bed and pours the water before handing you the cup.  Your hands shake a little with the weight of the cup, but you’re still able to lift it to your lips and drink the refreshing water. It feels so good against your parched throat.

The doctor continues his examination, completely fascinated with every result he finds.  His fascination unsettles you a little.  You feel like there must be something missing. “Doctor… How long was I unconscious?” you ask.

His posture seems to stiffen dramatically.  He stares at you for a moment, only increasing the unsettled feeling you have.  “This might be difficult to take.  Miss. Y/L/N, you’ve been asleep for three years.  Well  _asleep_  isn’t exactly the proper term.  Your body seemed to be in some form of stasis-”

“Wait,  _three years_?!” you cut him off incredulously.

“Yes!  It’s quite incredible, actually.  You see…” everything else that he says falls onto deaf ears as your mind consumes you.

Three years of your life completely gone.  How did your body even survive that long?  It made no sense.  The last thing you remember was an unforgiving chill as your body fell into darkness.  That couldn’t have been three years ago… Maybe a day, or two at most?  But the muscular fatigue you feel certainly gives proof for the possibility that this might not be a joke.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice the new person entering the room.  “Doctor, might I have a word with Miss. Y/L/N?” the British accent catches your attention.

Looking up, your eyes land on a pretty brunette woman who exudes confidence.  The doctor looks at her and immediately nods.  “Of course Agent Carter.”

The woman waits for the doctor to leave before closing the door behind him and walking over to your bed. She gives you a kind smile, trying to make you feel comfortable.  “Hello, I’m Peggy,” she introduces herself.

“Hi,” you respond. “I’m Y/N, but I have a feeling you already knew that.”

Her grin widens as she nods. “Yes, I am well aware of who you are. How are you feeling?”

Your gaze drops to your hands which sit in your lap.  You play with the empty cup as you think on how to respond.  “Well… confused, definitely.  Is it weird that I’m also still tired?”

“That’s perfectly understandable.  Your body isn’t used to being awake.  You’ve been unconscious for a long time.”

You shake your head, still in disbelief.  “And  _that_  is something I’m still trying to wrap my brain around.  Has it really been three years?”

“I’m afraid so,” she responds honestly.  “And unfortunately, that’s not all.”

You look back up at her, trying to read her features.  “What else could there be?”

She hesitates a moment. “Y/N, you haven’t aged at all. There was no change in your condition the entire time you were under.  It was like you were frozen.”

Your mind goes completely blank, unable to even process what she’s just told you.  “I don’t understand…”

She steps over to a small set of drawers next to your bed.  Opening the top drawer, she riffles around for a moment before pulling out a hand held mirror.  She extends it to you.  Your muscles are still rather weak, so it takes two hands to lift the mirror up. “It’s been three years and yet, you look exactly the same as when we first brought you in three years ago.”

Gazing at your reflection, you notice that you look a little fatigued, but she’s correct.  There’s no sign of any other change.  And though three years wasn’t a lot of time, there should have been at least some change.  Your hair hadn’t even grown out.  It was no longer pinned back, like it had been whenever you were working, but other than that, it was exactly the same.  “How is this possible?” you ask, setting the mirror down in your lap and looking back at Peggy.

She frowns and releases a small sigh.  “I’m afraid we don’t know.”

You release a shaky breath, your mind running a thousand miles per minute just to comprehend even a fraction of what was going on.  “God, what the hell have they done to you…” you whisper.

Peggy’s brow nits in confusion.  “To who?”

You look up at her again. “My soulmate,” you explain.  “He was captured three years ago.  We both almost died at one point, but one of the nurses I worked with injected me with adrenaline to keep me alive.  I don’t know where he ended up, but it couldn’t have been somewhere good.  His heart was always racing, and there were several times when I would feel this searing pain in my chest.  They must have been torturing him, I know it.  The pain was horrifying.  And that’s just what  _I_  was feeling.  It’s only a fraction of what they must have been doing to him.  I thought it was over, when I felt myself drifting off.  That they must have pushed him too far and killed him…  But now, I can’t even imagine…  What could they have done when they caused  _this_?”

“He was a prisoner of war?” Peggy asks.

“Yes.  At least, I’m pretty sure.”

Your answer makes her frown. “Y/N, the war ended nearly three years ago.  After negotiations were made, the POWs were returned to their home countries.  Well, the ones that were still alive, that is.”

You’re first shocked to hear that the war was over.  When you were last awake, it had seemed like there was no end in sight.  Like the war was going to last forever, with nothing but pain and bloodshed for the rest of your lives.  But, with the way she said it, and if POWs were returned, that must mean the Allied forces had won.   _You_  had won.

It took a second longer for it to click.  The POWs had been returned and yet…  It would seem that not all of them had been.  “You’re sure that  _all_  of the POWs were returned?” you ask her.

She sighs softly, looking at you with compassion.  “I’m afraid there’s no way we could know.  So many soldiers were lost.  Anyone who didn’t return was reported as MIA.”

“But you didn’t even try to go looking for the missing soldiers?!”

“Once the war was over, any war time funding was almost immediately switched to other government departments.  Everyone was quite happy to put everything behind them.  To forget the war even happened.”

“So, they just left my poor soulmate in the hands of his captors, and whatever whims they seemed to have for him?”

“Y/N, we didn’t know about him,” she tries to get you to see reason.

“And now that you do? Are you still going to leave him over there?”

“We just don’t have the resources-”

“But he fought for his country!  He nearly  _died_  for his country.  Doesn’t that mean anything?!”

“We have nothing to go on. We don’t know who he is, where he was when he was captured, yet alone where he is now.  I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do.”

Your eyes burn with tears of frustration.  What did the two of you do to deserve a fate such as this?  If they wouldn’t even try to find him, the least they could do was put you both out of your misery.  “I think… I need to be alone for a bit,” you speak, your voice thick.

“Y/N…”  Peggy looks at you with pity and it makes you feel nauseous.

“Please.  This is all too much.  I can’t…  Just go,” your words crack at the end as a lump forms in your throat.

You look down at your lap, refusing to watch her leave.  Once the door clicks shut, your eyes close and the tears begin to fall.  There was nothing worse for a soulmate than knowing your mate is in danger, but there is absolutely nothing you could do about it.


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later, there’s another knock on your door.  After you give permission, Peggy walks through, holding a brown folder in her hand. “Hello, Y/N.”  She gives you a tentative smile, not sure how you’ll react to her presence.

You smile softly back, inviting her in.  If anything, you’re glad that she came back, because you felt the need to apologize for your emotional outbursts at the end of her last visit.  “Come on in, Peggy.  I’m sorry for getting so riled on your last visit.”

She walks in further, coming to stand next to your bed.  “No, it’s completely understandable.  I should be the one apologizing, I handled the situation very poorly.  But that’s actually why I’m here.”  You look up at her in curiosity as she looks down at the folder in her hands.  “I did some research into your case.  And I may have actually figured out who your soulmate is.”

That definitely grabs your attention.  “What?”

She opens the folder and pulls out a small piece of paper, before handing it to you.  Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s actually a photograph.  The black and white image captures two men laughing.  You can tell by their body language that they must be close friends. Your eyes automatically gravitate to the dark haired one.  He’s got his elbow draped over the other man’s shoulder, his arm hanging limply down. His posture is relaxed, carefree even, despite the tank and military support vehicles in the background.  His lips are spread wide in a smile, white teeth showing and eyes crinkled.  You then glance over at the other man, your breath catching in your throat when you see his uniform.

“Is that… Captain America?” His image had been slapped on the front page of every news paper for months.  It would be impossible to not recognize him.

“Yes, it is.”

You blink several times, briefly wondering how she came across this picture.  “And who is this?” you ask, you gaze gravitating back to the dark haired man.

“That is James Buchannan Barnes, or Bucky as he preferred it.  He was Captain America’s best friend.  And the man I believe to be your soulmate.”

“Bucky…” you test the name out on your lips.  It’s almost strange how natural is sounds, almost like it’s the only word you should ever know.  “He’s handsome,” you sigh softly, your finger tracing over the edge of his jaw.

Peggy laughs.  “He certainly is.  Although, despite his flirtatious nature, I only had eyes for Steve.”

“You knew him?” you ask in surprise, tearing you gaze away from him to look up at her.

She smiles fondly, her gaze distant.  “I knew both of them.”

“And you really think Bucky is my soulmate?”

She nods, pulling out a few more papers from the folder.  “It would seem so.  You both share the same birthday, and not only that, but the date of Bucky’s accident matches with the report of yours.”

“His accident?”

Peggy seems hesitant to reply, not wanting to work you up again.

You decide to switch tactics.  “Maybe we should start with something else.  Can you tell me about him?  What was he like?”

“He was kind, and definitely protective of Steve.  You see, I actually met Steve first…”  Peggy begins to dive into the tale of how she met Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

You had heard many stories about Captain America and the Howling commandos, but hearing it from someone with firsthand knowledge was something else entirely.  You could tell she was trying to do her best to give you details on Bucky, but she was obviously drawn to talking more about Steve.

“Is Steve your soulmate?” you ask her when there’s a lull in the conversation.

She smiles sadly, keeping her eyes downcast.  “No. But I still loved him, very much.”

“Where is he now?”

A look of pain graces her features.  “He died.”

“Oh…” you hadn’t been expecting that.

“He sacrificed himself to end the war.  It was such a Steve thing to do.”

“Was Bucky with him? When he died?”

“No.  A few weeks earlier, they had been on a mission together. Bucky fell from a train into a ravine. We had assumed he died.  No one would have been expected to survive a fall like that.  Steve was devastated.  But if you both really are soulmates, then he must have survived somehow.”

“Then who would have taken him?”

“Hydra.  We dismantled the main base, but there are still several smaller bases we’re trying to hunt down and eradicate.  If he’s being held in any of them, we’ll find him.”

“You’re actually going to look for him?”

“We’ll try.”

* * *

Over the next few weeks, after gaining your strength, you join Peggy in her efforts to find Bucky. You tried to give her as much detail of your experiences, hoping any small part of it would provide her with useful information.  You were soon introduced to some of her companions, the famous Howard Stark and his butler, Jarvis, an intimidating man named Chester Phillips, and a handful of agents working for the newly formed organization, S.H.I.E.L.D.

None of you knew when the strange frozen sleep would overtake you again, so many of you were working around the clock.  Without any field experience, you weren’t allowed to go on missions.  And with the constant threat of your heart palpitations, you would have posed a risk to everyone on the team any ways.

Peggy did her best to go on missions in your place, knowing you trusted her the most to bring Bucky back. However, all your efforts seemed to only lead to dead ends and cold trails.  You were awake for about a month before you were consumed by the icy darkness once more.

When you next wake up, Peggy comes to see you again.  It just takes a quick glance at her to know that several years have passed once more. She tells you that there’s still been no sign of Bucky.  However, in a new development, they had come across a second woman, also frozen in sleep. Her condition was slightly different though, because she never seemed to wake up.

When you ask if they know who her soulmate is, Peggy becomes uncharacteristically quiet.  Her voice is shaky when she finally speaks, “We think it’s Steve.”

You look at her in shock. “Steve’s alive?!”

She shrugs her shoulders. “We’ve started scouting the arctic again, but it’s nearly impossible to traverse the area and the council is already talking about stopping the effort.”

“Oh Peggy…” you empathize with her.  She might not be Steve’s soulmate, but she was still in love with the guy.  And you hadn’t even met the man you were desperately trying to find, yet alone fallen in love with him.

The years pass by so quickly.  Sometimes you’re awake for a few weeks, sometimes it’s only a few days.  Peggy is always there when you wake.  You quickly learn to not be surprised when you see how much she’s aged.  She updates you on what’s been going on in the world, including the latest technology.

Your room also seems to change with the times while you sleep.  Where there had once been a radio sitting on the table in the corner, a box television appears.  Howard proudly tells you that it even plays in color.  In 1963, you watch that television in horror as the President of the United States is assassinated.  Peggy had been sitting next to you, telling you about the race to space with Russia over the last few years.  Needless to say, you didn’t see much of her afterward.

* * *

When you wake up next, it’s the mid 70’s and Peggy is introducing you to a new man.  She explains to you that he’s a representative for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the State Department.  And in just a few years he’ll be promoted to the Secretary of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s council.  She tells you that she’s probably going to be retiring in a few years and that she wanted to make sure you were taken care of.

“Y/N, this is Alexander Pierce.”

The man gives you a smile and extends his hand.  “It’s nice to finally meet you.  I must admit, when Peggy here first told me about you, I didn’t quite know what to expect. I can’t even imagine what you must be going through, but just know, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Peggy gives you a slightly wrinkled smile, “I’ll give you two some time to talk.”

Pierce takes a seat next to your bed.

“So, exactly how much did Peggy tell you?” you ask him.

He smiles knowingly, “You want to ask me if I know about Mr. Barnes.”

You nod.

“Peggy has filled me in. Unfortunately, we still haven’t found him.”

You sigh sadly, your shoulders dropping.  You’re getting pretty sick and tired of hearing those words.  “How has 30 years of searching for him provided zero results?”

“I really wish I had the answer to that question.”

You talk openly with him. He seems nice.  And he tells you that you remind him of his daughter. Peggy comes back to check on you, and seems satisfied with how well you’re getting on.  Your next encounter with Alexander Pierce is not so pleasant.

* * *

Based on the amount of new wrinkles, you’d assume it’s been about 10 years.  And though, he’s still polite toward you, he’s lost some of his warmth.  He almost seems to be more calculating too.  You wonder what could have happened to him in your sleep that would bring about this change.

“Did Peggy ever tell you about the connection we’ve made between you and Mr. Barnes?” he asks, pacing the room at the foot of your bed.

Your heart flutters for a second.  There’s a connection?  You feel a sense of hope beginning to blossom.  Maybe there’s a chance of finding him.  Of saving him.  “What’s the connection?”

His shoulders drop as he releases a long sigh and you already know that the information he’s about to give you isn’t anything to hope for.  “Every time you’ve regained consciousness over the past several years… there’s been an assassination of an important political or scientific figure.”

You frown, your brow furrowing in confusion, “I don’t understand…”

“Your soulmate is one of the deadliest assassin’s in all of human history,” he tells you, not bothering to sugar coat it.

For the first time in what seems like forever, your heart kicks into over drive of its own volition. “What?  No, that can’t be!”

“I’m afraid it’s the truth. He is an incredibly dangerous man. He needs to be found.  Needs to be stopped.  Peggy figured it out after the JFK assassination, but she decided not to tell you.  Unfortunately, we really can’t afford to keep you in the dark anymore.”

“The JFK assassination? What does that have to do with anything?”

“It was him.  James Buchannan Barnes shot the President.”

“No!” you deny, shaking your head fervently.  “I don’t believe you!  It’s only a coincidence!”

You notice his jaw clench in annoyance, though the rest of his façade remains neutral.  “Is it really a coincidence if it there is a death  _every_  time?”

It becomes hard to breathe as panic steadily fills your brain.  You couldn’t be mated to an  _assassin_!  There had to be some other explanation.  There was no way!  That wasn’t the man Peggy told you about!  “I think you need to leave,” you tell him, feeling overwhelmed.

“Miss. Y/L/N-”

“Now!” you scream in anger, your emotions out of control.

“Forgive me for upsetting you,” he states his apology without any real feeling behind it, before he turns and exits the room.

Your body racks with sobs as you curl up on your side.  You didn’t want to believe him, but at the same time, why would he lie about that? Tears fall from your eyes in steady streams, wetting your pillow.  Your hysteria comes to a pause when you feel your heartbeat becoming steady…  It takes you a second to realize that it’s  _him_.  Feeling your panic, he was doing what he could to try to calm you down.

Your heartbeat skips upon this realization.  And a little later you feel a responding skip.  A whole new set of emotions fill you up: compassion, trust, and longing. At that moment, you  _know_  that Alexander Pierce must have been lying to you. There’s no way you were mated to a cold blood killer.  If you were, he wouldn’t care.  He wouldn’t try to comfort you, despite not ever having seen your face.

* * *

You wake up in December 1991, to your worst nightmare.  You’re alone when you wake, getting the same reaction you usually get.  A frantic heartbeat that lasts no matter what you do to calm it down.  Your heart suddenly jolts without rhythm.  It doesn’t feel like the lightning in your chest, but you know that whatever they’re doing to him can’t be good.  There’s another prolonged moment of a pounding beat, and then like a light switch getting flicked, the heart beats slows.  It’s an even and calm beat, not even a hint of the previous fast pace.

You’ve become used to this strange ritual, still no closer to figuring out what the hell is going on. Pierce doesn’t come to visit you until the next day.

“It would appear that your mate has killed one of our own,” he tells you.

You glare angrily at him, frustrated that he seems to be continuing your last topic.  “Stop saying that he’s responsible.  I know he’s not!”

“Howard Stark is dead.”

Your heart seems to stop, a pool of dread forming in your gut.  It soon resumes its normal pace, however you don’t feel the comfort that normally comes as well.  “What?” you ask in a hushed voice.

He walks over to your television set, turning it on and inserting a tape.  The screen stays black for a moment before a fuzzy image appears. It seems to be a road, surrounded by trees with some sort of barred fence in the left corner.  “This video was taken from the security camera located at the front gate to Stark’s mansion.  He and his wife were just about to leave on vacation when they were targeted.”

You jump when a car comes flying onto the screen before crashing into a tree.  You watch a dark figure walking up to the trunk of the car before he rips it open.  While he rifles through the trunk, a white haired man tumbles out of the driver’s seat.  The dark figure comes around, a metal arm catching the light.  He grasps the other man’s hair, lifting his head up.

There’s blood all over the injured man’s face as he looks up at the dark figure.  He appears shocked,  “Sergeant Barnes…”

“No…” you whisper to yourself.

“Howard,” you hear a woman crying out.

You gasp, a hand flying to cover your mouth when the dark figure uses his metal fist to bash Howard’s face in.  He then drags Howard’s lifeless body back to the car, setting him back in the seat and resting his face against the steering wheel.  He walks around the back of the car to get to the passenger seat.  His eyes stare straight forward as he reaches into the car and strangles the woman sitting there.

Your entire body is shaking as you try to restrain your sobs.  He comes back around the car, walking straight for the camera.  He pulls out the gun at his hip, but Pierce pauses right before he lifts it up.  The image is a little distorted due to the poor camera quality and because of the tears welling up in your eyes, but there’s no mistaking it.  You’ve stared at the picture that Peggy gave you long enough to be able to recognize him anywhere.  His hair is longer and he has stubble growing on his face, but you can still tell that it’s him.

You choke out a sob, unable to hold it in any longer.  “Oh my God…”

Pierce stops the tape and pulls it out.  “Do you believe me now, Miss Y/L/N?”

Your mind closes in on itself and you don’t even hear him.

He turns away and pockets the tape, smirking to himself.  He’d struck a deal with Karpov.  If he could get you to turn against your mate, he’d get unlimited access to the Winter Soldier.  You were the one threat they had against all the hard work they’d put into molding the asset.  They needed him alive, so unfortunately they couldn’t just kill you, but if they could get you to hate him, to want nothing to do with him… then you’d no longer be a threat.

They had intentionally planned for the asset to conduct his assassination in front of a camera so that they could show it to you.  You needed solid evidence in order to believe what they were telling you.  And now you’d seen it.

Pierce walks out of the room, chuckling to himself once the door closed.  Joining HYDRA may have been the best decision he’s ever made.  With the power of the asset under his control, he could now put his plans in motion.  And my, what plans they were…


	4. Chapter 4

Hearing the door click shut as Pierce leaves doesn’t even phase you.  Your mind is racing with all sorts of thoughts, the horrible video playing in your head over and over again like some sick and twisted nightmare. Your chest aches with the need to breathe and yet, you’ve somehow forgotten how to get it to expand.  Your heart races and you can hear your pulse drumming inside your head.

You could feel the fast pace of your heart faltering.  He was trying to calm you down again.  Instead of it being a comfort though, it was making you feel sick.  It made you want to rip your own heart out.  You didn’t want this connection with him anymore.  Not to someone so horrible.  How could he have done that?  And without any emotion too.  He wasn’t affected at all by what he had done.

Despite your efforts to resist him, your heartbeat eventually evened out.  However, the ache in your chest remained.  You briefly wondered if he could feel your heart breaking too.

You were left to wallow in your misery for weeks.  You wondered why you hadn’t fallen back into the frozen sleep.  Was he out there killing more people?  Maybe it had something to do with whatever he had taken out of Howard’s car.  You wouldn’t be surprised if Howard had been targeted for his latest invention. Turning on the TV just increased the hole in your chest.  News of Howard’s death was on nearly every station.  It was being reported as a car accident.  No one had any idea of the truth.  You’d catch brief glimpses of a boy, not much younger than you, standing in black, a blank look in his eyes.  Anthony Stark, Howard’s only son.

You wanted to console him, to grieve with him.  Pierce wouldn’t let you leave the facility.  Said it was too dangerous for you to leave until they’d caught Bucky. After that, you never really saw very much of Pierce.  You’d wake up every couple of years to an empty room, the door always locked.  Your only source of information was the television.

You woke up to a big shock in 2014.  Captain America was alive.  And had been for nearly three years.  You gathered bits and pieces from different news stations, finding out he’d been working with a group called the Avengers.  You were also surprised to find out that Howard’s son was part of this team as well.  However, the biggest story on the news was the recent death of Nicholas Fury, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the subsequent disappearance of Captain America. There was a lot of speculation going around as to the cause of Fury’s death.  Some were talking about assassination, and that made you really uneasy.

You look up in surprise when the door opens.  Pierce walks in, followed by two men.

“Miss Y/L/N, these are Agents Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins.  I’ve asked them to escort you to one of our other facilities.”

You glance between the two strangers warily.  “Why? What’s wrong?”

Pierce doesn’t really look at you when he responds, “Nothing, it’s just a precautionary measure.”

“He’s here, isn’t he…” you state more than ask.  “He’s in the city.”  Somehow, you could already tell, even before the news reports started coming in.  Your body knew he was close, which must mean, he knows as well.  You’re not entirely sure how to feel about it.

The man introduced as Rumlow steps forward.  “Just come with us.”

It’s not like you could really say no.  They end up taking you to a safe house somewhere in New York.  You had your first taste of the outside world in years; decades even, on the car ride over.  Everything seemed so much bigger and louder than you remembered.

Rumlow hastily walks you through the layout of the house, in no mood to be playing baby sitter. “Kitchen, living room, bathroom, bedrooms.  Make yourself at home Sleeping Beauty, you’ll probably be here a while.”

You’re slowly taking in your surroundings when you hear Rollins call out.  “Hey, they got a hit on Rogers.”

“Shit, really?” Rumlow walks over and they both look down at some type of device in Rollins’ hand. Rumlow growls in frustration. “Screw this.”  He looks up at you.  “You.  Stay here. We’ll be back soon.”

Rollins looks at him incredulously.  “But we have orders.”

“There’s no way I’m letting Rogers get away from me again.  Not after what happened in the elevator.”

Rollins was also pissed about that.  He’d been given the first shot at Rogers but hadn’t been fast enough.  “Alright, let’s go.  Not like she has anywhere else to go, or know how to use anything enough to get out of here.”

There was truth in his words, but you still felt pretty insulted.

They leave hastily. It crosses your mind to defy their orders, to leave, maybe explore a little.  But even though the two looked a little rough around the edges, you had no real reason to not trust them.  You didn’t really want to go around causing trouble.

You move into the living room and find that the television here is very different from the one in your room.  The screen is big, but it’s so skinny.  And instead of knobs, there were buttons on the side.  It took you several minutes to realize the small rectangular device with buttons sitting in front of the TV also controlled it.  It would appear that Pierce decided to stop updating the technology in your room when he also decided to stop visiting you.  You find a news station and let it play in the background as you continue to look around.

There’s a desk in the corner and sitting on top is a slim silver rectangle with an apple logo in the center.  You lift the device, looking at the underside and edges, that’s when you notice you can open it.  On the inside there’s a screen on one side and keys arranged similar to a typewriter on the other.  Your curiosity grows when the screen brightens all of a sudden.  You take it with you as you sit on the couch, resting the device on your lap.

On the screen is a picture of the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo, with various icons lined up on the bottom.  It’s a little overwhelming when you first look at all of it.  You don’t really know what to do.  You press a few of the keys, but nothing seems to happen.  Your fingers accidently brush against the square pad at the front and you notice a small arrow move across the screen.

You don’t really know what icon to press, their images and names don’t provide you with any useful information.  You find one that looks like a compass.  Figuring that it might give you a map of your current location, it seems as good a place as any to start.

The screen suddenly goes white, and you think that you’ve managed to break the device for a moment before the word GOOGLE forms on the screen.  Beneath the colorful words is a thin box with a blinking line at the front. Once again, you don’t really know what to do.  At the end of the box, there is a button labeled “Search”.  You click on it, but nothing happens.  You click the thin box, but also nothing happens, and the line continues to blink.

You hit one of the keys. The letter “b” appears inside the box.  Now we’re getting somewhere.  You type in more letters, until “bucky barnes” is spelled out inside the box.  Your heartbeat begins to pound, and for once you’re not entirely sure if it’s because of you or because of  _him_.  You hit the search button.

The screen changes. There’s so many words on the screen now, its takes a minute for you to comprehend any of it.  There’s something about the Smithsonian Institute.  You begin to read the sentence that lies beneath the big blue title.  “Sergeant James Buchannan “ **Bucky** ”  **Barnes**  was the childhood best friend of Steven Grant Rogers…”

You frown.  There must be more information than that.  You move the arrow, noticing the blue words becoming underlined and the arrow change to a hand pointing its finger.  You press down on the pad.  The screen changes once more.

It takes you to the promotional page of the new Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian.  You read the entire page, disappointed when there’s only a small section that talks about Bucky.  The page also states that he died during the war.  You realize that Peggy must have never gone public with the real information.

You look up at the TV when you hear them mention Captain America.  There’s aerial footage playing of three figures standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by all sorts of people with guns.  As the camera zooms, you spot Rumlow and Rollins. Rumlow is standing behind the Captain, putting him in handcuffs while Rollins points a rather large gun at his head. You watch as Rumlow looks up at the camera, before turning to Rollins and barking orders at him.  You don’t know what he says.

You watch as Captain America and his two companions get shoved into a big black vehicle before it takes off.

Rumlow and Rollins don’t come back that night.  Bucky’s heart goes through another racing fit and you have to fight against yourself to keep from calming him down.  He’s already killed one person and you’re terrified that Captain America might be next on his list.  He was able to kill one of his other friends from the war.  It pained you to think it, but you almost wouldn’t be surprised if he was able to kill his former best friend, too.

The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the revelation of HYDRA is all over the news the next morning.  You’re absolutely dumbfounded when you find out Alexander Pierce was the head.  Peggy had completely trusted him.  Oh God, Peggy!

You don’t even know if she’s still alive, but where ever she is, she must feel awful.  The organization she created with the sole purpose of helping people had been completely corrupted from the inside out. Did she know?  Did she even suspect?  You feared that she didn’t.

And if Pierce was HYDRA, did that mean-

You hear the jingling of keys outside the door.  You quickly turn off the tv and shove what you later found out was a laptop underneath the couch before laying down and closing your eyes.  You try to even out your breathing, despite the pounding of your heart.

The door opens and you hear a set of heavy footsteps.  There’s a soft buzzing sound before you hear a voice, “Yeah?”  You recognize it as Jack Rollins.

“Where are you?” Rumlow questions, his voice muffled.

“At the safe house. Just got here.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s asleep.”

You have to stop yourself from breathing a sigh of relief.

“Look man, everything’s gone to shit.  Pierce is dead.  The asset’s missing.  I had half of the Triskelion crumble on top of me.”

“Shit, are you okay?”

“No I’m not fucking okay!” Rumlow growls angrily.  There’s a moment of silence as he tries to simmer down. “Pierce said he’d come for the girl,” he continues.  “With any luck, he’ll bring pretty boy with him.  Keep an eye on her, don’t let her out of your sight.  I need to make some plans.”

“We probably shouldn’t stay in the country if he’s after us.”

“Do whatever you want. Just don’t lose her.  She’s the only chance we’ve got for reigning in the asset.”

“I’m on it.”

“Hail fucking HYDRA.”

Your eyes squeeze a little tighter when your worst fears are confirmed.  These two were HYDRA agents.  You now regret not leaving the house when you had the chance.

You hear Rollins coming for you.  “Get up.” He taps you roughly on the shoulder.

You pretend to moan tiredly, opening your eyes slowly.  “What’s going on?” you ask, rubbing you eyes as you sit up.

“We’re leaving.”  When you don’t move fast enough for his liking, he grips your arm and pulls you to your feet.

“Where are we going?” You ask, barely able to match his brisk pace as he leads you out of the house.

“Somewhere far from here.” He walks to the large black car sitting in the driveway.

“Why?”

He releases you arm.  “Just get in.”  He opens the driver’s side and takes a seat.  He slams the door closed and buckles himself in.

Your heart pounds in your ears.  In a split second decision, you turn and begin to sprint in the opposite direction. You hear him curse loudly from within the car as he fights his seatbelt to get back out.  However, spending years locked inside didn’t do you much good. It’s not hard for him to catch up to you.

“Help!  He’s HYDRA!  Hel-”

Your screams are cut off, one of his thick arms hooking around your waist while his other hand slams over your mouth.  “You sneaky little bitch…”  You struggle against his hold, but you’re no match.  He drags you back to the car, kicking and screaming.  “Time to go to sleep, princess.”  He grabs a fistful of your hair before slamming your head against the side of the car.  There’s a flash of intense pain before everything goes dark.


	5. Chapter 5

You wake up to a major headache.  Hissing through your clenched teeth, you try to bring your hand up to your forehead, only to find that you can’t move it. Opening your eyes, you have to blink several times to get your vision to clear.  Everything hurts, your muscles are stiff and sore, you neck has a kink in it, hell it hurts to even breathe.

You look around slowly, trying to keep the pain of movement to a minimum.  You’re tied to a chair in some type of medieval looking bedroom.  The walls are made of stone, a four poster bed pushed against the back corner, with the curtains drawn back.  There’s a large rug spread out across the hardwood floor. Your chair faces the bedroom door, but to your left, there are long drapes which seem to be covering either a long window or a set of balcony doors.

You look over when the door opens.  Rollins walks in and closes it behind him. “Well, looks like the Princess is awake.”

You glare up at him.  “Where did you take me?”

He sneers, but otherwise keeps quiet.  He walks over to grab one of the decorative chairs.

“Answer me!” you yell, beginning to fight against your restraints.

“I don’t have to tell you shit.”

He lifts the chair and sets it down in front of you, taking a seat.  “Tell me what you know about Barnes,” he orders.

You match his sneer with one of your own.  “I don’t have to tell you shit.”

His hand darts out, gripping your chin as his fingers dig painfully into your cheeks.  “You do, actually.  Because you have no other options.”  You rip your face out of his grasp, continuing to glare.  “What do you know about him?  Did you ever meet?  Does he know what you look like?”

“I only know what Peggy told me about him and what Pierce lied to me about.  We never had a chance to meet.”

Rollins chuckles darkly, “Oh I know exactly what Pierce told you.  Too bad it wasn’t lies.”

“Shut up!  You’re nothing but a piece of HYDRA trash!” you shout.

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding back as he towers over you.  “I know, because I was there!  I watched first hand when they scrambled his brain to keep him compliant.”

All the air seems to rush out of your lungs at once.  You have to crane your head back to look at him, his words taking a moment to register. “Scrambled his brain…?” you ask, your voice much smaller than it had been.

He smirks, glad to finally put you in your place. “Yeah, he’d cry like a baby, too. Scream until his throat was raw, and then he’d just keep screaming.  It was this whole device that would come around to either side of his head.  It would shoot I don’t even know how many volts of electricity straight into his brain.  Would’ve killed any normal man.”

“Stop,” you whimper, having heard enough.

“You know, I think I’ve got a video of it. Used to show it to the recruits to scare ‘em.  Always got a laugh out of it.”  He pulls a small device out of his pocket and moves his finger across the screen. Moments later, he turns the device toward you, showing you a picture of a chair.

A man with a metal arm steps into the frame, surrounded by all sorts of armed men.  He steps up to the chair and turns around, standing absolutely still.  The blank look in his eyes reminds you of the last video you saw of him and it makes you wince.

You gasp when the next person steps into the frame. Alexander Pierce, that slimy little bastard.  He walks up to Bucky.  “Mission report.”

Bucky continues to look straight ahead as he answers. “I tracked the target to Odessa. Termination was successful.”  His voice was huskier than you imagined, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

“You nearly took out one of our best agents.”

He doesn’t react.  “The mission was to take out the target at all costs.  The mission was successful.”

“You were sloppy.”  Pierce turns to look at someone of screen.  “Wipe him.  And make sure he doesn’t make a mistake like this again.”

You notice Bucky’s jaw tighten, but that’s the only change.  Pierce steps back as two men come into frame.  Bucky stands still as they work at undoing the buckles on his tactical vest. Once it’s removed, they push him back into the chair.  One of the men puts a mouth guard in Bucky’s mouth while the other programs the machine.

A series of clamps close around his arms, locking him in place.  His breathing heightens dramatically, and though his eyes remain dead, you can still tell just how scared he is as the machine circles around to frame his face.

“Please, stop,” you beg Rollins to stop the video.   You know you should turn away, but it’s like your eyes are glued in place.  That’s when the screaming starts.

His screams were a thing of nightmares.  The piercing cry cuts you to your very soul. It seems to fill the entire room, blackening everything else out.  Leaving nothing behind but raw pain.  Your eyes slam shut, the tears flowing freely.

A second cry soon joins his.  You don’t realize it’s yours until your throat begins to hurt.

“Stop!  Stop it!” you scream.  You begin to struggle against your bindings once again.  Bucky’s tortured wails driving you to madness.

Rollin’s laughs, “What?  You’re not enjoying yourself?”

When you open your eyes, everything is tinted with red.  “I will rip your fucking heart out, you sick bastard!”  You lunge at him like a savage animal, ready to rip his throat out with your teeth if you have to.

He takes a step back, moving out of range and knowing you can’t do any real harm while tied up.  He pockets the phone and sits back down in the chair.  He observes you in amusement as you slowly calm down.

“You know, I thought it was a bit much, the amount of effort we needed to put into him to keep him from turning on us.  But he’d already been a highly trained sniper from the war.  We just needed to get rid of his moral compass.”

He leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees.  “You were actually the hardest thing for us to scrub out of him.  No matter what we put him through, nothing was ever permanent. You were the one thing that could pull him out of his compliance.  It was a God send when Pierce joined the cause.  It was after he’d already been assigned to protect you.  So he knew everything.  HYDRA had been looking for you since the beginning.  We had no idea that Carter bitch was keep you right under our noses.”

You swallow thickly, almost afraid to ask, “What were your plans for me?”

He sighs like he’s getting bored with the conversation.  “Well, we knew we couldn’t kill you.  Pierce wanted to turn you to our cause, but we soon realized that wouldn’t work. That’s when he decided to just turn you against the asset.  Too bad that plan’s now shot to hell.”

“That’s why he showed me the video in 1991.”

“Yeah, well, now the only use you have for us is as bait.”

You glare at him once more.  “If he’s as highly trained as you say he is, then he’s going to kill all of you.  I hope you’re ready to die.”

He laughs as if you’re nothing but a puppy tugging at his pant leg.  “ _If_  he manages to track us here… we’ll be ready for him.  And then you’ll get to watch first hand as we fry his brain.”

He pushes himself out of the chair.  “Well, this was a nice chat and all, but I’ve got better things to do.”  He leaves the chair in place as he walks toward the door.  “Make yourself at home.”

“Wait, aren’t you going to untie me?!” you ask incredulously.

He glances at you over his shoulder.  “You need to work on your poker face, Princess. I knew the second you loosened those bonds five minutes ago.”

You growling angrily, throwing the ropes to the side and vault over his chair.  He slips out the door before you can reach him, locking it right as you slam into the wood.  You bang your fists against it.  “Stay away from me, you asshole!  Or I’ll kill you myself!”  You can hear him chuckle on the other side and it only pisses you off even more.

You don’t really know where this new found confidence came from.  For the most part, you’d been pretty docile, but you’ve felt something inside you shift slightly.  You realize that it might be linked to Bucky’s freedom.  While he had been forced under HYDRA’s control, you had also become rather submissive.  It’s what lead you to never question anything people were telling you, especially Pierce. But now that Bucky was no longer under their thumb, you yourself were growing more accustomed to the act of defiance.

You step away from the door and take a closer look around the room.  You had to look for weaknesses.  To find a way out.  You head straight for the long curtains, pushing them back to reveal a set of double glass doors.  Your heart pounds in anticipation.  Could they really have been stupid enough to put you in a room with a balcony?

Trying the handle, you find that the door is unlocked. You push it open and rush outside, ready to do whatever you need to to get out of here.  Your hands grasp the rail of the balcony as you lean over to determine what floor you’re on.  Your stomach drops when you look over the edge.  You immediately understand why they didn’t care about the balcony.

The building was built right at the edge of a huge ravine, the drop so large, you couldn’t even see the bottom, because the ravine was filled with low hanging mist.  It must have been several hundred feet.  You feel a sense of vertigo just looking at the drop.  Your legs shake as you step back, only remembering how to breathe when your back hits the wall next to the open door.  When you close your eyes to try to compose yourself, all you can envision is the drop down, so you force your eyes back open.

You turn around, placing your hands against the cool stone of the wall in an attempt to ground yourself as you focus on your breathing.  You can already feel your heartbeat normalizing, no doubt with a little help from Bucky.  Once you’ve got a solid grasp on everything, you begin to look around again, trying to get a sense of where you were.

The stone wall seems to stretch out in both directions from your room.  You’re able to determine that the building must be pretty large, and given the medieval quality, you might even guess it was some sort of castle.  You remember Peggy telling you that HYDRA would take over all sorts of buildings for their various uses, so the idea of them taking you to a castle didn’t seem too farfetched.

With a resigned sigh, you head back into the room. It didn’t appear that there would be any form of escape from the balcony.  You go back to the door, testing it for weaknesses.  The hinges looked a little old, but for the most part seemed sturdy enough to keep the door in place.  The lock looked relatively new, as if they had just recently changed it.  They probably needed to for your sake, so it would lock from the outside.

You check the rest of the room, hoping to find some sort of hidden door or anything.  Old castles like this often had alternate hallways and hidden doors for the staff to easily get around without being seen by the upper class members of the castle.  Unfortunately, it looked like that wasn’t going to be the case for this castle, or at least those passageways didn’t connect to this room.

You fall back onto the bed, not liking this feeling of hopelessness that’s begun to bloom inside your chest.  How was Bucky supposed to know where to find you?  Did you even want him to?  Rollins said they’d be ready when he came, but you felt that wasn’t necessarily true.  You had watched the fall of HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D.  Both organizations were going to need time to recuperate and gain their bearings.  You had to act quickly if you wanted a chance at getting out of here.

You stare up at the fabric that’s been thrown over the open canopy of the bed frame.  For a while, you stare without really seeing it, until you suddenly get an idea.  You sit up, your eyes trailing over the thick wooden frame.  It looked strong, probably even strong enough to hold your weight.

You stand up on the mattress, holding onto the post to keep steady.  Bending your knees, you jump up, gripping the frame of the canopy, your fingers slipping just underneath the fabric.  The frame holds, there isn’t even a creak of protest.  There isn’t much that you can do besides hang there, but you’ve got a new plan forming in your mind.  If you can build your strength, it might actually be possible to climb the stone wall outside.  If you could climb the wall, then you could get out.


	6. Chapter 6

It takes a few months of training to get your body ready.  You weren’t entirely sure what types of exercises you needed to do, but you and several of the other nurses would get together to watch the men train during the war. All you could really do was mimic the exercises you remember watching them do.  And sure the HYDRA agents fed you to keep you alive, but it was barely enough to build the muscle your body needed.  When you notice that there are no longer dramatic shifts in your strength, you determine that this is going to be the best you’re going to get.  You’re definitely much stronger than you had been, but you weren’t entirely confident that it would be enough.

You grab the bed sheet that you had ripped up into long, thin pieces, and you wrap it several times around your waist as well as loop it over your shoulder and between your legs.  You tie it off, so it won’t unravel while you climb.  You take a deep breath to steady your nerves before walking out the balcony doors.

“Oh, holy shit,” you whisper to yourself, mistakenly looking down the ravine.  You force yourself to turn away and face the wall.  You heart pounds in your chest, both in anticipation of what you’re about to do and with fear of failing.  You couldn’t fail, because failure likely meant death.  And you wouldn’t be the only one dying, if it came to that. “Bucky, give me strength,” you take in another breath, looking up the wall you’re about to climb.

As if he’s heard you, you feel your heartbeat begin to slow.  You feel warmth spreading in your chest, knowing that he’s looking out for you. Your heart skips a beat in thanks. You smile when you get one back. That’s when you know that you can do this.  It might be completely insane, but there were no other options.  You would not just sit there and be a damsel.  If there was anything that you could do to help your situation, then god damn it, you were going to do it.

Your hand grips the first stone, getting a feel for the texture against your fingertips.  Your other hand grips the second stone.  You find your foot holds, and suddenly you’re climbing up. You grab rock after rock, trying to rely more on the strength of your legs to push you up instead of your arms pulling you up.  Your body’s strength and the adrenaline coursing through your system propel you forward.  However, neither one of those are able to last forever.

The adrenaline wears off, and it allows you to feel the fatigue in your limbs.  You’re about three quarters of the way up.  There’s no way you were climbing back down.  If you dropped and still managed to land on the balcony, it would result in major injuries.  If you missed the balcony…  You forced yourself to stop thinking about it.  The only option you had was to keep going up.  And so you did.

Your breaths come in short bursts.  Each move up the wall is accompanied with grunts of exertion as you vocalize the screaming of your tired muscles.  Your hands grow slippery with sweat, which only proves to make things more difficult. You tell yourself that you have to keep moving, no matter what.  That eventually the wall has to end.

Suddenly, your fingers are grasping the top edge.  It takes the last of your strength and a cry of pain to pull yourself up and over.  You roll onto your back, gasping for breath. Your muscles pulse with relief of no longer straining.  You only give yourself a minute of rest before pushing yourself to stand up.  Your arms and legs are physically shaking as you do so.  You have to push the pain to the back of your mind, knowing that you have to keep going.  You walk across the roof of the castle, finally getting a look at how big this place really is.  The back section, which is where your room is located, is the tallest part of the castle. There’s a courtyard in the center, surrounded on all sides by buildings of various heights.  You try to figure out the best way to climb down, while simultaneously looking for HYDRA agents patrolling the outside.  You don’t actually see anyone, which isn’t too surprising.  None of them ever expected you to get outside, so they probably only walked the hallways inside.  You look out at the horizon, trying to get a view of the landscape.  You don’t see much with only the help of the half moon as light for your immediate surroundings, but you definitely see more light in the distance.  Lights meant cities, and judging by the brightness of it, it shouldn’t be too far off.

You unravel the bed sheets, tying it off to one of the chimneys on the roof and letting it drape over the side.  You test your knot, making sure it’ll hold before you begin to climb down.  It definitely puts more strain on your already tired muscles, but it’s not nearly as bad as the climb up.  When your feet hit the roof of one of the lower buildings, it’s just a matter of jumping from roof top to roof top, occasionally needing to roll your landings if there’s a big drop in height.

You breathe a sigh of relief when your feet hit the grass just outside the main gate of the castle. You don’t give yourself much time to enjoy your freedom before you’re taking off through the woods.  You don’t really know how long it took to escape, nor how long you had before they realize you’re gone.  You wanted to get as much distance between yourself and the castle before that happened.

You stay relatively close to the main road, staying deep enough into the woods to make it easy to hide if a car were to drive past.  You just hoped you wouldn’t come across any wild animals.  Having no idea which part of the world you were in, you had no idea what threats you might face in these woods, especially at night.

Luckily it didn’t seem to come to that.  By the time you reach the town, it’s already morning. Your body and mind are both exhausted, but being this close to freedom is what keeps you moving.  There are a handful of people out and about.  You approach an older woman.  “Excuse me, can you help me?” you ask her.

She looks at you in confusion before speaking in a language you don’t understand.

You shake your head at her, “I’m sorry.  I don’t… Do you speak English?”

She continues speaking, making wild gestures with her hands.

“English,” you emphasize.  “Do you know  _anyone_  who speaks English?”

She points in a general direction, continuing to speak in her native tongue as she walks off.

Your shoulders drop in a sigh and you move onto the next person.  The language is so strange to you, you can’t even tell what it is.  Eastern European, maybe?

“You alright?” you suddenly hear an accented voice ask.

You turn with a gasp, finding a man, possibly in his late forties.  “You speak English!  Oh thank God. I need your help.  Can you-”

“I am sorry,” he cuts you off.  “My English only so-so,” he makes a gesture with his hand.

“Oh, alright,” you speak much slower, trying to not let your excitement get the best of you.  “Where am I?” you ask clearly.

It takes a moment for the words to process in his mind.  His eyes light up when it clicks.  “Ohh! You are lost!  Okay, where you going?” he asks, ready to give you directions for where ever you’re headed.

You shake your head, “No, I don’t need to know where to go.  I need to know where I  _am_.  What country is this?”

“Country…?” he repeats the word, knowing it sounds familiar.  “Oh! Oohhh!  Romania!” he says happily, glad he was able to figure it out.

“ _Romania_?!”  You cry out incredulously.  How the hell did they manage to get you to Romania without you even knowing?!  You take a few deep breaths, trying to get your mind back on track.  “Okay, I need your help.  Do you know where the American Embassy is?”

“Oh, you American?”

You sigh, “Yes, but the Embassy…”

He shakes his head, “No, no embassy in Romania.”

Your shoulders drop.  “But I need to get a message to Captain America.”

His eyes light up, “Captain America?!  Oh, yes!  With shield!”  He curls his arm in front of him, mimicking how the Captain holds his shield.

“Yes!  Yes, okay. I need to get him a message.  Tell him how to find me.”

“There she is!” you hear a shout.

You look up, startled to see several HYDRA agents coming your way.  “Shit.” You take off running in a different direction.  “Thank you, bye!” you call to the man over your shoulder.

You don’t really know where you hope to go. There was no embassy in this country. You had no money, no passport and nowhere to go. But you couldn’t just give up.  You had to get to Bucky.

The agents split up and surround you from different directions.  The first guy to approach you gets a fist to the face.  He rears back, holding onto his nose.  You kick another guy in the shin before throwing your arm back and slamming your elbow into another guy’s neck.

“Shit, when the fuck did she learn how to fight?” one of them grunts.

“You didn’t really think I did absolutely nothing in that room all day, did you?” you respond sarcastically.  You’re untrained in your fighting technique, however the attacks you can manage hold a lot more power than any of them had been expecting. You duck down and side step when one of them tries to grab you from behind.  You push at his back, allowing his momentum to drive him forward into one of the other agents.

A large black SUV comes flying around the corner, it stops abruptly and lets several more agents rush out.  Rollins takes the lead, looking even more pissed off than he usually does.  “What the hell are you idiots doing?  Just grab her!”

Three of the new arrivals rush you.  You manage to kick one of them in between the legs before the other two grab your arms and force you down onto your knees.  You thrash around, trying to break free, but they’re able to overpower you.  Rollins makes his way over, pulling the gun out of the holster at his hip.

“It would be so easy,” he growls, holding the gun to your forehead.  “You’re definitely causing a lot more trouble for us than you were supposed to.  Did you really think you could get away?”

You glare up at him without flinching.  “I wanted to see how far I could get.  All I really needed to do though was create enough of a fuss to get someone to notice.”

Rollins looks up, only now seeing the crowd that’s been drawn.  Many bystanders stand back, watching the scene unfold.  Several are on their phones, some calling the police, others recording the action.

“Fuck,” he quickly holsters his gun again.  “Get her out of here,” he orders, before turning to one of the other agents.  “Get Jackson on damage control.”

One of the agents comes up behind you to cuff your wrists.  You wince slightly at how tight he sets them.  The two holding onto you pull you up and force you into the big black SUV. The drive back to the castle is filled with a tense silence.  You’re surrounded on all sides as they walk you through the halls.  You’re ushered to a different room, this one having a series of slim windows that seem to have been barred shut from the outside.  They certainly work fast.  Your cuffs are taken off as you’re shoved into the room. The door is slammed shut and locked mere seconds later.

You rub at the raw skin of your wrists as you take in your surroundings.  On the plus side, there’s a TV in this room.  It had taken you a while to stop getting used to the normal background noise of the news channel you normally had on.  You’re glad you had your escape plan and training schedule, or else you might have gone insane from the silence.  This was the longest you’d ever gone without at least some form of human companionship.  You didn’t really know how much longer you’d be able to last.

You turn the TV on.  You have to flip through a few channels to find one in English. You leave it running as you explore the rest of the room.  There’s a draft coming from somewhere near the fire place.  You inspect the wall, finding a small crack following the edge of the stones.  There’s no doubt in your mind that you’ve found a secret door.  Now it’s only a matter of figuring out how to open it. You try to press against it, but it doesn’t budge.

It takes a few days before you find out that the wall sconce across the room is the lever that opens it.  You grin in triumph.  Time to go exploring.  The passages are dark and dusty.  You keep your explorations short at first, not wanting to get lost in the maze of tunnels. It would appear that none of the HYDRA agents had knowledge of the hidden tunnels, because everywhere you went seemed like it hadn’t seen a human in decades.  You’re glad you aren’t very squeamish, because there are rats and insects everywhere.

You’re pleasantly surprised when you stumble across the secret door that leads to their weapons room.  The room is empty, and because there’s no threat, a whole arsenal of weapons is laid out on the tables.  You know not to make your presence known in the room, but you figure they wouldn’t miss one of their hand guns and a serrated knife.  You also find a table with random tools and accessories. You swipe a flashlight as well. It definitely makes passage exploration easier from there on out.

The days seem to blur together, until you don’t even know how long you’ve been cooped up in this castle.  You observe the agents’ patterns, spying on them from the shadows, collecting what information you can.  You don’t understand what could be taking Bucky so long to find you.  You can tell Rollins is getting frustrated too. There are cracks in strategic places on the passage walls that allow you to peak into various rooms throughout the castle.  One of those rooms is Rollins’ command center.  He’s currently pacing the room, having just ended a rather important sounding call.

“It’s been two fucking years and we’ve got nothing from Barnes.  Rumlow has been taken out by Captain fucking America and the money from the bio-weapon he was supposed to sell is now gone.  That money was supposed to fund this operation for the next several months.  What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” he growls to one of the other agents.

The man looks hesitant to respond.  “We might want to consider… downsizing.”

Rollins looks just about ready to blow a fuse.  “ _Downsizing_?  We’ve got the fucking Winter Soldier on our asses… and you want to  _downsize_?!”

The man gulps, shrinking back as Rollins gets up in his face.  “We’ve been hiring mercenaries to keep watch of the castle.  Do you really think they’ll stay if we don’t pay them?”

He grabs the man by his shirt, pulling him in even closer.  “Find me a way to get more money,” he speaks through clenched teeth.  He releases the man and heads for the door.  “And while you’re looking, find Barnes, too.”

You’re back in your room a few days later practicing your knife throwing skills with the knife you swiped from the weapons room when the news station catches your attention.

“A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna.  More than 70 people had been injured.  At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’chaka.”

Images of a large glass building appear on the screen. The building seems to be on fire, though the fire department can be seen trying to put out the flames.  The image then switches as the news anchor continues speaking.  “Officials have released a video of a suspect, who they have identified as James Buchannan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the infamous HYDRA agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.  Anyone with information, please contact-”

You turn the TV off, not believing them for a second.  That isn’t who Bucky is.  Not without HYDRA pulling his strings.  You hope that where ever he actually is, he’s safe.  Getting blamed for an attack like that meant a lot of people would be looking for him.

You’re in shock to find out a few days later that he had actually been  _in Romania_.  Just an hour before, you’d felt Bucky’s heart pick up its pace.  You knew instantly that someone must have found him, you just hoped it wasn’t HYDRA. You quickly turn on the TV, waiting expectantly for the information to come in.  They eventually show blurry footage from the police vehicles that had been chasing him through the streets, as well as Captain America, and a man in an all black body suit.

“No, no.  Leave him alone!” you yell, watching as he’s surrounded by police from all sides. You know that all of this had already happened, but it helps to scream out in protest.  You pace in front of the TV as you watch.  “He didn’t do anything!  He’s here looking for  _me_! Oh God, he’s so close.  Leave him alone!”  You feel helpless all over again, falling to your knees.  The police force him down onto his stomach.  He complies willingly as they cuff him.  You notice the look of complete and utter devastation in his eyes and you feel it reflected deep within yourself.  “ _He was so close_!”

The TV cuts to the news anchor reporting the story as he explains that Bucky is being transferred to FBI custody in Berlin.

“God damn it!”  Taking the knife, you throw it as hard as you can, the blade imbedding two inches into the wall.  “He was  _here_!  Why couldn’t you have left him alone?”

You fall forward, your fingernails digging into the rug beneath you.  The tears fall directly from your eyes and onto the rug, forming spots of dark red. Your entire body racks with sobs. You can’t believe he’d been so close. If only he’d had more time.  Or maybe if you’d left the castle again.

You lean your head down against the carpet, folding into yourself.  “What do I do now?  What am I supposed to do?”  You take in a shaky breath.  “I can’t get out here without you.”


	7. Chapter 7

You spend the next few days in bed, not bothering to get up to spy on the HYDRA agents.  You can tell Bucky isn’t having the best time either. You feel his heart rate spike, before becoming the deadly calm you’ve come to know as the Winter Soldier.  The news later tells you about his breakout from the FBI facility in Berlin.  Of course, they spin it to make him seem even more dangerous, but you’re just relieved he’s not in a holding cell.  You find out that both he and Captain America have gone missing, while several of the other avengers who aided in their escape were being detained in a secret government facility.

The next day, you’re jolted into awareness of Bucky being in danger.  You have no idea what’s happening, where he is, or who could be threatening him.  You do your best to try to help, but you’re so emotionally exhausted from the last few days, you fear it’s not enough.  The fight on his end seems to go on forever.  You don’t know if he’s hurt, but you have a sick feeling deep in your gut that’s telling you something is incredibly wrong.  You know that he must have survived whatever the danger was, but at what cost.

Things become rather quiet after that.  Both with your heart ministrations and with the HYDRA agents.  You resume your usual spying.  None of them seem to know what happened to Bucky after he disappeared from Berlin.

It’s the middle of the night, several weeks later, when you wake up to the sounds of shouting and gunfire. It startles you awake, but it takes a moment for your brain and body to connect what’s happening.  And suddenly, you feel it.  The presence nearby.  The strength of your heartbeat growing.

_He’s here!_

You push the blankets off your legs, stumbling out of bed.  You put on your shoes, slip the sheathed knife into your front pocket, tuck the gun into the back of your jeans and grab the flashlight.  You rush as fast as you can through the hidden passageways, while still staying quiet.  The sensation of his presence grows stronger with every step, and you know you’re heading in the right direction.

You reach the hidden entrance behind one of the decorative suit of armors.  Pressing a brick on the wall, activates the door, making the stand for the suit slide forward.  You squeeze through the opening as soon as it’s big enough, not bothering to wait. Your heart beats in anticipation as you run down the open hallway.  You come around the corner and suddenly there he is.  In the flesh.  “Bucky!”

He turns to face you, immediately lowering his assault rifle once he recognizes you.  “Y/N?”

Your chest heaves with breath before you take off again, sprinting as fast as you can down the hallway. You collide with his massive chest, not wasting a second in wrapping your arms around him and burying yourself in his warmth.  He reciprocates the embrace, holding you impossibly tight.  “You’re here!  I knew you would come for me!  I knew- Oh Bucky!”  Tears of relief and joy fall from your lashes.

He rests his cheek against your hair, eyes falling shut.  “God, I thought I’d never find you,” his voice is thick with emotions he hasn’t felt in decades.

“Out of all the people on this planet, I knew only  _you_  could.”  Your fingers dig into his tactical vest, holding on for dear life.

He breathes deeply, inhaling your sweet scent.  It fills his lungs and allows a sense of peaceful tranquility to wash over him.  “I wouldn’t have known where to start if you hadn’t given me the clues.”

You lift your head up, meeting his gaze once more.  His eyes are so blue; you can feel yourself already beginning to get lost in them. “You’re so tall,” you laugh, still a little incredulous that he’s actually there.

His full lips spread into a wide grin.  His right hand cradles your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.  “And you’re so… beautiful,” he responds, his voice falling to a breathless whisper.

Your fingers brush against the light stubble on his jaw before moving down to cup the back of his neck. You pull his head down, closing your eyes when his forehead rests against yours.  “Please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

“God, I hope not.”

You both pull back when you hear a set of footsteps heading toward you.  Bucky takes a protective stance in front of you.

“Hey, Buck.  We gotta keep moving.  They’re starting to regroup.”

You watch the blonde approach, not recognizing him at first without the red, white and blue. Instead, he’s dressed in all black, a handgun cradled in his palm.

“Captain America?” you question.

His gaze is drawn to you as you peak around Bucky’s shoulder.  He gives you a small smile, “Actually, it’s just Steve Rogers, ma’am.”

“Where’s your shield?” you ask, noticing that it’s also missing.

“It’s kind of a long story, doll,” Bucky tells you.

“One I’d be happy to tell you once we’re not behind enemy lines,” Steve chuckles.

“Right.  Well, I’m more than ready to get out of here, if you are,” you tell the boys.

They both share a smile of amusement.  “Then what are we waiting for?”  Bucky asks. The two begin to make their way down the hall from the way they came.

“Wait!”  You reach out, grasping Bucky’s hand.  The cool metal against your palm doesn’t even faze you as start tugging him the other direction.  “We should go this way.”

He raises an eyebrow, “But, the front is in  _that_  direction.”

You toss a smile over your shoulder, continuing to pull him after you.  “Just trust me.”

Steve checks over his shoulder for any incoming agents before following after you two.  You pull them down the hall to the suit of armor, which is still pushed out.   You tug Bucky into the hallway and wait for Steve before pushing the brick to close the entrance.

“A secret door?” Bucky asks as you pull out your flashlight and turn it on.

“Yeah, they’re all over the mansion.  I think these hallways were once used by the household staff.”  Now that you can see, you pull them down the hall.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Steve asks.

“I’ve been roaming these halls for a year and a half.  I think I know my way around by now,” you grin cheekily over your shoulder.

Bucky’s brow furrows, “The HYDRA agents don’t know about these passages?”

You scoff, “No, they’re all a bunch of idiots.”

You hear Steve chuckle, “I like this one, Buck.”

The metal hand in your grasp gently tightens.  “Me, too,” he mutters softly.

You squeeze his hand back, unable to stop the grin from growing on your face.  The three of you can hear the HYDRA agents running around and shouting to each other just on the other side of the wall.  You remain silent as you lead them through the several twists and turns of the passages.  You soon slow your pace before stopping completely.

“Unfortunately, the passage that connects to the other side collapsed a long time ago.  And it’s the other side that connects to the passage that leads outside the gate.  If we exit here, it’ll open up into the courtyard.  We need to cut across to get to the grate on the floor next to the fountain. That’ll drop us down into the other side of the passage.  Then we’ll be home free.”

Bucky frowns slightly. “That’s easier said than done, doll. Once we’re out in the courtyard, we’ll be exposed,” Bucky tells you.

“Rollins has most of them guarding my room in the center of the castle.  They don’t know that I’m not in there.  If we move fast, you guys can take out the few that are out here, and we’ll drop into the passage before the others arrive.”

Buck looks at Steve for confirmation.  The former Captain America takes a moment to think over the plan.  “You’re sure they don’t know you’ve gotten out?” Steve asks.

“You heard them all yelling just now.  They’re looking for you two, not me.”

Steve sighs hesitantly, but nods his head.  “It’s not optimal, but it might be our only option.”

Bucky lightly tugs at your hand to get your attention.  “Stay behind both of us.  But once the grate is open, you’ll be first in.”

You nod your consent, knowing that these two are far more prepared than you are when it comes to fighting.  You feel his thumb brush against the back of your hand before he slowly releases his grasp. He takes hold of his assault rifle and Steve grasps his hand gun with both hands.  They take an offensive stance and nod at you to open the hidden door. You flick off the flashlight and shove it in your back pocket, your free hand, already holding the lever to open the door.

The wall slides back and sideways, opening up into the edge of the courtyard.  Steve’s back is pressed to the wall, carefully checking around the corner before he steps out.  Bucky follows soon after, and you stick to him like a shadow.  His heartbeat is strong and steady.  It helps to keep you calm.

The three of you move fluidly toward the fountain.  Your only source of light is the full moon.  You’re just about halfway there when you’re suddenly blinded by light.  The agents had flood lights positioned on several of the roof tops, and all of them turn on, focused on your position.

“Shit!” you hear Bucky. He grabs your arm and pulls you after him as he runs to the fountain.

It’s then that the gunfire and yelling starts.  “Fuck! They already have the girl!”

“Don’t let them leave the courtyard!”

“Well don’t kill them, too, you idiot!”

You feel Bucky’s hand on the back of your head, forcing you to duck down behind the fountain.  He’s crouched next to you, aiming for the shooters and trying to get to the flood lights.  You’re still trying to blink the brightness away, unable to adapt so quickly.

“Well, so much for that plan,” Steve mutters, ducking down next to you.

“The grate is right there!” you point, finally able to see.

“There’s no way we’re getting to it with all this gunfire,” Bucky grunts, taking out any agent.

You pull the gun out from the back of your pants.  Lifting your head up, you peak over the edge of the fountain.

“Stay down!” Bucky orders, pushing against the top of your head.

You give him a frustrated look.  “Let me help you!”

He glances down at the gun in your hands before flicking his gaze back up to yours.  “Do you even know how to use that?”  You hesitate in answering and that’s answer enough for him. “ _Stay down_.”  He turns back to shooting.

You huff in annoyance at him.

Steve nudges your shoulder and you turn to look at him.  “Your safety is still on.”  He points to the edge of your gun and flicks it off for you.

You feel your cheeks flush. No wonder Bucky thought you didn’t know how to use it.  Lifting it up, you aim for one of the flood lights in the distance.  You’re able to see it while still being tucked behind the fountain, so you feel like it’s the best target for right now.  You take aim, keeping your breaths even and slow.  You pull the trigger.  You wince a little at the kick back, but smile in satisfaction when the floodlight shatters.

Bucky stiffens next to you, ducking down and looking at you incredulously.  “Did you just…?”

You shrug as if it’s no big deal.  “What? I have steady hands.”

You hear Steve chuckle next to you.  Bucky glares at him before sighing.  “Stay low, but see how many more you can get.  Steve and I will take care of the agents.”

You nod in agreement. As long as you’re helping, you’re happy. The three of you work in sync, taking out agents and lights.  You can hear them calling for back up, so you move a little faster.  Once the coast is clear, Bucky is dragging you behind him again. He grips the grate with his metal hand and rips it out of the concrete.

You jump down first, quickly followed by Bucky, then Steve.  You flick the safety back on before shoving the gun into the back of your pants again.  You then pull out the flashlight and lead the way once more.  The three of you rush a little faster, knowing that the agents can now follow you through the passages.  The ground beneath your feet begins to incline and you know you’re getting close to the end.

There’s another grate overhead.  Bucky’s just tall enough to reach it and pull it down, a few pieces of stone crumbling down with it.

“I’ll go first,” Steve states.  He jumps up, gripping the edge and hauls himself out.  It’s quiet for a moment as you and Bucky wait in anticipation.  “All clear.”

You both breathe a small sigh of relief.  Bucky steps up to you and grips your hips.  “Up you go.”  He lifts you up and Steve helps to pull you the rest of the way out.  Bucky jumps out seconds later.  He turns to the hole, unclipping a grenade and tossing it in. You hear it go off, followed by the sound of crumbling rock.  “That should slow them down.”

“The jet’s actually not too far from here,” Steve tells you both.

You follow behind Steve, Bucky taking up the rear, unable to believe that this is really happening. You’re so close to freedom, you can taste it.  But then you hear the bang of a single gunshot and the world tips over.


	8. Chapter 8

You hit the ground with a painful thud, feeling a heavy weight on top of you.  Your fingers dig into the grass, your head buzzing.  You’re not sure what just happened.  Your heartbeat has spiked up, adrenaline coursing through your veins.  You feel the gentle brush of air against your cheek.

“You okay?” you hear Bucky’s gruff voice in your ear and you realize he’s on top of you.  He must have pushed you down to protect you from the gunshot.

“Y-Yeah,” your voice is a little shaky from the shock of what just happened.  You hear him grunt and it honestly sounds like he’s in pain. “Are  _you_?” you ask, glancing at him over your shoulder.

You watch his face tighten into a grimace.  “Not exactly.”

“Bucky!”  You try to roll over, but his arm tightens around your waist, keeping you in place.  “Were you hit?”

“…Maybe.”  He sucks in a breath, the pain in his side only growing.

You fight a little harder against him, forcing him to roll onto his back.  You sit up and turn to look at him.  His metal hand is clutching his side, dark red already beginning to ooze out between his fingers.  “Let me see,” you insist, tugging at his wrist.

Bucky’s other hand comes across his torso to grab at your wrist, but when you look up at his face, he’s not looking back.  You follow his gaze, your blood going cold when you see Rollins approaching you, gun raised.  Bucky releases a pained groan as he sits up, forcing you behind him.

“Well, isn’t that cute.  The broken assassin trying to protect the little princess,” Rollins comments sarcastically.

“Take another step and I’ll blow your head off,” Steve threatens, crouched next to you two, gun also raised.

Rollins grins, completely unaffected.  “Hey Cap. Glad you could make it, because we’ve got some unfinished business.”  He pulls a device out of his pocket and hits a button.

This high pitched buzzing soon fills the air, making your wince.  However, Steve’s reaction is much more severe.  He cries out in pain, dropping the gun and desperately trying to cover his ears.  He crumples forward, writhing on the grass.

Rollins smirks in satisfaction.  “Nifty little device, isn’t it?  Our scientists whipped it up after you came out of the ice.  It sends out a frequency that vibrates against your super soldier cells. Doesn’t feel too nice, does it?” he asks mockingly.  “Unfortunately, we never really had the opportunity to use it on you, because your shield would have protected you from the vibrations of it.  Good thing you didn’t bring it with you tonight.”

He leaves Steve, groaning in pain, knowing he’s out of commission while the device is running.  Your hands grip Bucky’s shoulders, both of you tensing up as he approaches.  Bucky releases a growl of warning.  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the hell back,” Bucky bites out through clenched teeth.

Rollins chuckles in amusement.  “You’re not in much of a position to stop me.”

Unsheathing the knife from your front pocket, you scramble to your feet and jump in front of Bucky.  “He  _said_  stay back,” you take a defensive stance, knife raised.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”  You feel Bucky’s heart race in panic, but you know you can’t back down.

Rollins raises an eyebrow, glancing at your knife before meeting your gaze.  “Oh Princess, bringing a knife to a gun fight?”

You flip the knife around your fingers, getting it into position.  You keep your face impassive as you stare him down.  “It all depends on how you use it.”  Without any further warning, you release the knife and send in soaring toward him.  It slams into his right shoulder, hitting right on target and severing his axillary nerve.  His arm falls limp, no longer able to maintain his shoulder muscles.   Not giving him time to react, you pull the gun back out and aim for his left knee.

He hits the floor, catching himself on his right knee.  You walk toward him, ripping his gun away from his limp fingers and stepping back before he can grab you with his good hand.  You aim your gun to his head as he glares up at you.

“Must admit, I underestimated you.”  He grits his teeth.

Your entire body is shaking and all you see is red.  “I should kill you for everything you did to him,” you seethe.

“Go ahead.  Prove that you even can.”

Your left hand grips the base of the gun, trying to keep it steady as your hands begin to shake violently. You want to do it.  God, do you want to.  Your life has been hell the last two years because of him.  And he was desperately trying to bring back the one organization that destroyed your life.  He  _needed_  to die.

You jump when another gunshot goes off, when you’d never pulled the trigger.  Rollins crumples forward, falling flat on his face.  You stare at his lifeless corpse for several seconds, your mind not able to catch up.  Your breaths come in shallow gasps, quickly turning into hyperventilation.  The gun slips from your fingers as your hands come up to cover your mouth.  You take several horrified steps back, just barely beginning to comprehend what you had been about to do.

You’re startled when you stumble back into Bucky’s chest.  He wraps his arms around you, holding you close.  “It’s okay.  It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

You turn around, desperately grasping at his vest.  “Oh God, Bucky!  I…  I almost…”  You gasp for breath, feeling like you’re about the dry heave.

“I know.  I couldn’t let you.”  One of his arms tightens around you, the other smoothing over your hair.

Tears begin to fall from your eyes, and it makes a lump grow in your throat.  “But I wanted to!  I actually  _wanted_  to kill him! How…  I’ve never killed anyone in my whole life!”  You release a choked sob.  “If you hadn’t done it first…”

“Don’t.”  His hand cups you cheek, gently lifting your face until your gazes meet.  “You didn’t do anything.   _I did_.  I couldn’t let you have blood on your hands.  Not even his.”  His gaze flicks between yours.  “But it’s over now.  He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Oh Bucky!”  You bury your face into his chest, unable to stop your sobs.

Steve’s groan of pain is the only thing to snap you out of it.

“Steve!” you cry out. You pull out of Bucky’s grasp and move back to Rollins to search his body for the device.  You find it and quickly turn it off before scrambling over to the fallen soldier.  You check him over.  There’s blood trickling out of his nose and from his ears.  He’s still moaning from the pain, but is no longer writhing around. “Steve, look at me,” you urge, cradling the sides of his face.

His eyes blink up at you, unable to truly focus.  “Let’s never do that again,” he chokes out, a bit of blood dribbling out of the side of his mouth.

“Bucky, he’s got internal bleeding.  I don’t know how severe it is.”

With a pained grunt, Bucky limps over, cradling his side.  “We have to get him to the jet.  The others are probably on their way here.”  He bends forward, grabbing Steve’s arm with his metal one.  “Come on, pal.”  Both men groan as Steve is lifted up.

You do what you can to help, frowning slightly at Bucky.  “Don’t strain yourself so much.  You’re injured, too.”

He chuckles dryly, pulling Steve’s arm over his shoulder.  “I wasn’t going to make you lift this guy’s fat ass, Angel.”

You’re a little thrown off by the term of endearment.  Did he mean to call you that?  Or was it something he just threw around, like doll?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Steve scoffs.  “Your ass is fatter than mine, Buck,” he groans out, slowly beginning to come back from the effects of the device.

“No need to sound jealous.”

You roll your eyes at your soulmate, ducking underneath Steve’s other arm.  “Let’s get out of here, shall we?” you suggest.

The three of you slowly, but surely get yourselves to the jet.  You walk up the back ramp, looking around at all the seats.

“Take me to the front,” Steve tells you.

“Steve, I can fly. You need to rest up,” Bucky argues.

“I’m holding you up more than you are me.  Sit your ass down, Barnes.”

“What?  Bucky!” you chastise over Steve’s shoulder.

He grimaces before releasing Steve to drop into one of the back seats.

“I’m alright,” Steve assures you when you hesitate in letting him go.  “Take care of this one.  That is, if he’ll let you,” Steve gestures toward Bucky.  “Med kit is on the wall,” he points out before he stumbles to the front of the jet, holding onto the wall for balance.

You grab the kit and move to kneel down in front of Bucky.  “Let me see,” you ask him once again.

“I’m fine, doll.  It went through and through.  Nothing that can’t wait for us to get to the med bay.”

“Bucky,” you start with a soft voice.  “It’s okay. I was a combat nurse in the war. Let me help you.”

His brows shoot up in surprise.  “Were you really?”

You smile.  “Sure was.  I didn’t want you fighting over there without having any back up.”

He sends you a fond smile back.  “What unit?”

“104th.”

“Damn,” he huffs out a laugh.  “I was 107th.”

Yet another instance where you both had been so close, and yet, not quite there.  “So, are you going to let me work?  Or do I have to sedate you?”

He slowly leans back in his seat, relenting.  “Have at it.”

He pulls his hand away as you lean in to inspect the wound.  It’s a clean shot, through and through, like he said.  He’s also already beginning to clot.  You turn to open the medical kit.  It takes a second for you to get oriented.  Everything is packaged in plastic, already ready to go, instead of there being bottles of antiseptic.  You grab several packages and read them to make sure you’re using what you want.

With a pre-wet wipe, you clean the front wound.  There’s a lot of blood, but most of it is beginning to dry.    When it’s ready to go, you add some numbing cream around the area before you stitch it closed and tape gauze over it to keep it protected.  You do the same to the exit wound.

When that’s all done, you pull out a new set of wipes to clean the blood off his hands.  You start with his right hand, noting how long and slender his fingers are.  You cradle the back of his hand in yours and rub the cloth against his palm.  You clean off his fingers too, trying your best to get in between them.  When you move to his left hand, your brows furrow as you work.  “This one’s different,” you notice while you clean.  The individual plates are smaller, allowing for a little more detail.  You flip his hand over, your gaze following up his arm.  The metal also seems to be a shade darker than what it used to be.

“Yeah… I kind of lost my other one,” he responds vaguely.

“Lost?” you ask with a raised brow.

He sighs softly, “Ironman blew it off,” he admits.

“Ironman…” you repeat, the name sounding familiar.  You look up at him in shock when it clicks, “Tony Stark?”

He nods.

“Why would he do that?” you ask in confusion.

Bucky seems to hesitate once more.  “Let’s just say he found out about something that I did, and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

Your gaze softens, “He found out about Howard, didn’t he?”

“It was more Maria that he was angry about.  Wait-  _You_  know about that?”  For a moment he looks terrified, scared of how that knowledge will change your views on him.

You keep your features soft and reassuring.  “Pierce showed me the video footage back in 1991.  He was trying to turn me against you.  I’m a little ashamed to admit that it almost worked.  I didn’t know what was actually happening, but just seeing you do something like that… without any emotions or cares… it terrified me.”

The light in his eyes dims and he can’t bring himself to meet your gaze.  “I remember actually being able to feel you pulling yourself away from me.  A part of me actually felt like I deserved it, after what I had just done…”

Your fingers squeeze his as you move to sit in the seat next to him.  “Oh Bucky, no…” you whisper.  You gently reach out to cradle his jaw with your free hand, guiding him to look at you.  “You didn’t deserve  _anything_  that they did to you. Especially not for what they  _made_ you do.”

You don’t even know you’re crying until you feel his thumb brushing your cheek. He bends his head down to lean his forehead against yours.  “Please don’t cry,” he whispers.

“I saw the chair.”  You feel his shoulders tense, knowing exactly which chair you’re talking about.  “I heard your screams.  God, I’d never felt so helpless in my life, seeing how in pain you were.  It drove me insane.  I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“You  _won’t_ ,” he tells you.  “Now that I finally have you, I’m never going to let anything happen to you.  You were to only thing that got me through all of that.  I couldn’t have come back from all of it without knowing you were out there somewhere, waiting for me.  You were what pushed me forward.”

You brush your nose against his before pulling back and leaning your head on his shoulder.  You fiddle with his metal fingers in your lap, completely fascinated by them.  The two of you sit in comfortable silence, happy to just be so close to each other after all this time.  He rests his cheek on the top of your head, watching your slender fingers glide over the metal plates, finding the movement oddly soothing. Over the last few years, he’s become used to having to keep his arm concealed for fear of scaring people, and yet here you are, not shying away from it in the slightest.

“You know,” he starts again in a low voice.  “Before I found out who you were, there’s something that I used to call you. And now that I’ve met you, I can’t seem to get it out of my head.”

“What was it?” you ask curiously.

“Angel. You weren’t there in person, but I could still feel you.  I knew you were watching out for me, even back during the war.  You were my guardian angel.”

Your cheeks flush in flattered embarrassment, but you couldn’t stop the huge smile on your lips if you tried.  “So  _that’s_  why you called me that earlier.”

“I did?” he asks before chuckling softly, “I didn’t even notice.”

Steve speaks up, pulling both of your attentions.  “We’re heading into the hangar.”

The jet lands without incident and you help Bucky up and walk down the ramp.  A tall, dark skinned man stands nearby to greet you all.  An air of confidence seems to naturally surround him.  He smiles kindly at you. “Welcome to Wakanda, Miss. Y/L/N,” he greets with an accented voice.

You recognize the country name from the news report several weeks ago.  The one where Bucky had been blamed for the bombing in Vienna.  You wonder briefly why Steve would have brought you all here.  “Thank you,” you respond.  “Could you point me to the direction of your medical facilities?  I did what I could for Bucky while on the jet, but he’s going to need more attention.  And Steve needs to get checked, too.  He’s got internal bleeding, however I couldn’t verify how severe-”

Bucky cuts you off by clearing his throat to get your attention.  “Y/N… this is  _King_  T’challa.”

It takes a second to process.  Despite living the last two years in a castle, you’d never actually  _met_  royalty before.  Sure you didn’t know exactly how to act, but you knew it definitely wasn’t  _that_.  “Oh…” you choke out.  “I apologize, I didn’t mean…”

T’challa laughs joyfully, “It’s quite alright.  I have welcomed you into my home with open arms; you do not need to act so formally around me.”  He then looks over the two men, taking them in for the first time.  He notices how Bucky is hunched slightly to keep from stretching his stitches.  Steve has dried blood under his nose and near his ears.  “The two greatest soldiers in history…” his gaze falls to you once more. “And  _you_  are the one to come back unscathed.”  He grins widely, “You’re going to fit right in.”


	9. Complimentary smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW content below, 18+ please

**March 10th, 2017**

Bucky is the first one awake in the morning, he eyes open slowly to adjust to the morning light. He feels your soft breaths fan across his bare chest as your head rests against his shoulder.  “Y/N,” he calls softly, his voice husky from sleep.  He grins when you don’t respond.  “I know you’re awake.”  He sees the corner of your lip twitch.  “I can feel your heart fluttering.”

You can no longer fight off the smile, “No, that’s  _your_  heart.”  Your body brushes against his as you shift slightly.  Your eyes slowly blink open before you look up at him.

He curls his body over yours, head dipping down.  “Happy Birthday, Angel,” he whispers, lips lightly caressing yours.

You hum against his mouth, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him more firmly against you. “Happy birthday,” you mutter in between your kisses.

His lips trail away from yours and move down your neck.  “You’re 100 years old today.”  He takes a second to nibble at the soft spot on the base of your neck.  “You’re an old lady.”

You burst out in laughter and push him back.  “So are  _you_!”

He grins down at you. “ _I’m_  not an old lady,” he replies in mock offense.

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean, Buck.”

He chuckles, “I might.”

Your knee brushes against his hip as you bend your leg up.  His metallic fingers glide across your outer thigh, pinning your leg against him.  You notice his gaze darken as he watches you.

“So, I was thinking…” he starts.

You smirk up at him.  “That’s never a good sign.”

He gives you a dry look, hand squeezing your leg in warning.  “Ha ha…  You’re a regular comedian, Angel.”

You snicker at his sarcasm. “What were you thinking, Buck?” you coax after you’ve had your laugh.

“Well,” he starts once more before licking his lips.  “You know how birthday sex is a thing?”

You smile in amusement, “Yes, I think we figured that out last night, around midnight.”

“Yeah, but what I was thinking… was that maybe we should take it up a notch,” he suggests.

You raise an eyebrow. “Take it up a notch?”

His gaze darkens once more. “One orgasm for every birthday.”

Your other brow shoots up to join the first, “You can’t be serious!”

Now he’s the one smirking, “Oh, I’m very serious.”

“100 orgasms?!  Bucky, I don’t think that’s even possible.”

That damn tongue makes another appearance, moving long and slow across his bottom lip.  “I read once that the record for female orgasms is 134 in an hour.  So, it’s more than possible.”

“In an  _hour_?!  Bucky, what the hell kinds of things are you reading?!”

He chuckles lowly, “Internet.”

“That’s more than two every minute!”

“If we tried, I’m sure we could beat it.”

“No way in hell, Barnes,” you laugh incredulously.

He pouts, “Fine, we don’t have to try to beat the record today, but what about just 100?  We can spread them out, we’ve got all day. Besides, we’re already 4 in, just 96 to go.”

“You’re crazy!”

He grins widely, “Crazy for you.”  His head dips down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.  “Pretty pretty please?” he begs childishly.

“Bucky, we have things to do.  We can’t just stay in bed all day.”

“Who said all 100 had to be in bed?  We’ve gotten pretty creative before.  I’m sure people wouldn’t notice if we disappeared for a bit every once in a while.”

“The party is for  _us_.  Of course they’re going to notice.”

He rolls his eyes, “Alright, well then, because it’s for us, we should be allowed to do whatever we want.”

You have to fight off another laugh, “Including each other?”

He chuckles, “Especially each other.”  He holds your gaze for a moment, his thumb brushing back and forth across the top of your thigh.  “You know, you haven’t given me a flat out no.”

“I know…”  You pause, unable to believe that you’re even considering this outrageous proposition.  You sigh slowly, “No more than 10 in an hour.”

His grin is so large, you’re surprised it doesn’t split his lip.  “Hell yes,” his hand tugs your knee up higher, hooking your leg around his waist. He drops his hips, his already hardened length brushing against you.  He groans from the back of his throat, eyes falling shut, “Angel, you’re already so wet.” He feels your warm slick coating him as he moves against your folds.

You whimper, hips rocking in tandem with his.  “I’m always wet for you, Buck.”

You feel his breath sweeping across your neck as his nose traces the underside of your jaw.  “Gotta taste you,” he moans.

Your entire body shudders at his words, “M’ not stopping you.”

He nips and sucks a long trail down the length of your body.  He worships every single inch of your smooth, silky skin.  He knows exactly what he needs to do in order to get you to turn to putty before he’s even reached his final destination.  Your body was made for his.  You are the sole reason for his existence.  And good God, was he going to make sure that you never doubted his undying love for you.

As he makes his way down your stomach, he shifts your leg from being wrapped around his waist to having it hooked over his shoulder.  Feeling the hard, cool metal against the back of your thigh makes you shiver.  You know that there’s going to be an indentation of the plating against your skin by the time he’s done, and you’re honestly looking forward to it.

He feels your heart skip a beat when his breath fans over the apex of your thighs.  It makes him grin devilishly.  He’s got you exactly where he wants you.  His ice blue gaze is hot with desire as it locks onto you.    He holds your gaze, knowing that you physically can’t look away as his head dips down.  Pretty soon his ridiculously long tongue slips passed his lips and he licks a long, wet stripe from bottom to top.  It glides ever so slowly from your dripping center, up your slick folds and ends with the lightest of flicks against your throbbing clit.

The burst of your flavor against his tongue makes his pupils expand, to the point where there’s only a small ring of blue left.  You release a shaky breath, your body already quivering.  It’s almost unbelievable, the reactions he can pull out of you from taking such simple measures.  “Oh Buck…” you moan as he moves in once more, this time using the very tip of his tongue to circle your most sensitive bundle.

His left hand grips the top of your thigh, keeping it pinned to his shoulder and allowing you to open up just a little more to him.  He laps at you clit in slow strokes, sweeping the flat of his tongue back and forth. He knows exactly what he needs to do to get you writhing beneath him.  He knows when to give you light and teasing strokes, when to apply more pressure, and when to completely suck your clit into his waiting mouth.

You scream out a gasp, back arching and eyes falling shut.  His right hand moves to rest against your lower belly, keeping you pinned to the bed.  He’s determined to get you off using just his mouth alone.  His talented tongue occasionally slips down to collect a little more of your taste before coming back up to your clit.

His eyes still haven’t left your face.  He could never get tired of watching you.  Watching your reactions to the things he does to you.  He feels a strong sense of pride knowing no other man will ever be able to pleasure you the way that he can.  No man can ever make you scream as loud, shudder as much, or come as hard. You were both destined for each other and there was no changing that.  You were his.  Just as much as he was yours.

Your hips begin to thrust up against his mouth, a tell tale sign that you were getting close.  Your hands comb desperately through his hair, urging him closer.  He releases a low moan, the feeling of your nails scraping against his scalp driving him crazy.  He especially enjoys it when your hands clench into to fists and you tug lightly to get him into the position where you need him most.

“Oh God!  Right there…  Bucky, yes!” Your hips jerk up, once, twice. On the third, you’re screaming. Your back creates a full arc, head digging back into your pillow.  Your muscles tense, toes curling, as pleasure invades your system.  He slowly lets up on your clit, transitioning from harsh sucks to gentle kitten licks.  He wants your release to last long enough to count as a real orgasm, but he also doesn’t want to push you too much so that you’ll tire out too early.

His mouth remains solidly attached until your quivering stops.  He departs with a simple kiss on your mound, his gaze flicking back up to yours. “95,” he informs you of how many are left.  With his grip still on your thigh, he gently lowers your leg from his shoulder until your foot is resting back on the mattress, knee still bent up.

Your breasts heave as you try to catch your breath.  “Bucky, what if I can’t walk tomorrow?” you ask still a little bleary from your climax. You can’t imagine having 95 more of these before the night is over.

He grins in satisfaction, wiping your slick from his cheeks with the back of his hand.  “Then I’ll carry you around.”  His chest brushes against you as he slowly crawls back up your body.

“And what if  _you_  can’t walk tomorrow?”

He chuckles, his breath fanning across your face.  “Then I guess we’ll both have to take the day off.”  His fingers brush some stray strands of hair out of your face.  He notices your gaze dip down to his mouth. Taking the hint, he leans in for a kiss.

One of your hands grips the back of his neck, the other sliding over the side of his ribs and settling in the middle of his back, urging him to lower his whole body to yours. You love feeling every inch of his skin pressed to yours, starting with your lips and going all the way down to where your toes brush against his ankles.

“Maybe we should take tomorrow off anyways.  We might need it to recover, even if we  _can_ walk,” he suggests in between his kisses.

You hum against his plump lips, “I like the sound of that.”

You feel his lips spread into a grin.  “Then we can work on breaking that record tomorrow too.”

“Nu-uh,” you bite down on his lower lip, tugging at it in playful warning.

He pulls back with a laugh, tongue swiping over the area you bit him.  Those metal fingers of his are back on your thigh, guiding your leg up and around his waist.  You see the fire igniting in his gaze and it’s the only warning you have for what’s to come. His hips drop once more, the head of his shaft gliding over your slick entrance.  A dribble of pre-cum spills out of him, mixing with your own wetness. Bucky feels himself throb with the need to be buried in you, and he can no longer deny his body what it so desperately craves.

He sinks his hips forward, filling you with every glorious inch he’s got.  You groan breathlessly, welcoming the stretch he gives you.  No matter how many times you’ve done this, your body would never get tired of the deliciously satisfying feeling of yours and Bucky’s initial joining.  Whenever he pushes into you for the first time, you can always feel the merging of your souls.  The two of you would literally become one.  It wouldn’t just be your hearts that were in sync.

He’d take a breath and your lungs would fill with air.  You’d shiver and goose bumps would break out across his skin.  He’d moan, and you’d feel the pleasure so deeply within you, neither of you would know where it originated from.

“I love you,” he groans out, head dipping down to press a kiss just above your left breast, where your heart is beating frantically with his.

“Bucky…” you hold him close, relishing how deeply seated he is in you.  “I love you, too.”

He begins a series of gentle thrusts, allowing your body to continue getting used to his.  You grow accustomed easily enough and it’s not long before you’re begging him to go faster.  Your hips grind upward, meeting him with every thrust and shamelessly rubbing your clit against him.  You feel his metallic fingers slipping under your back, pinning your body to his as his thrusts increase in both speed and force.  He doesn’t hold back as much as he probably should.  It’s so easy for him to lose himself when he’s with you.  Your scent completely surrounds him.  The slapping of your skin fills his ears, broken occasionally by your whimpering moans.  The only thing he can feel is the overwhelming ecstasy of being so thoroughly wrapped up in your body.

He groans when he feels your walls flutter around him.  Your hearts beat in perfect harmony as you feed off each other’s pleasure.  Your legs tighten around his waist, nails digging into his back.  He watches your eyes roll back and your lips part with a gasp.  Just a few more thrusts and he’s joining you in a paradise he once thought he’d never get to taste.  His eyes fall shut, unable to resist the uninhibited pleasure clouding his senses and filling his entire being.

His thrusts eventually slow.  He feels a shiver running the full length of his spine as he comes back down to earth. “94,” he groans quietly, blinking open his eyes.

You laugh breathlessly, eyes still closed.  “Are you going to count down after each one?”

He grins.  “Well, if I lose count, we’ll have to start from the beginning.”

He takes great amusement in watching your eyes snap open.  “What?!?”

He chuckles lowly, rubbing his nose against yours.  “I’m kidding.”

“Now who’s the comedian?” you give him a flat look.

He smirks, leaning in for a chaste kiss.  He carefully pulls out of you and rolls onto his side, keeping you tucked under his arm. You make yourself comfortable, never one to turn down post-coital cuddles.  His fingers run lazy circles against the small of your back.  You sigh in content, your body quickly relaxing into a blissful state.

Your eyes fall shut with the brush of Bucky’s lips on your forehead.  “Is it weird that I sometimes still get scared that I’m gonna find out that none of this is real?” Bucky asks you in a quiet voice.

You take in a deep breath, lifting your gaze up to his.  You give him a small half smile.  “No. We spent far too long away from each other.  And now that we’re together, it feels a little too good to be true.”  Your hand runs up and down his chest in soothing strokes. “But I promise you, Bucky.  I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes cloud over a bit as he gets lost in his thoughts.  You raise a brow in curiosity, wondering what he might be thinking.  His crystal blues pierce you to your very soul when they lock on you once more.  He holds you gaze, his eyes flickering back and forth as if he’s searching for something.  You notice a flash of vulnerability cross his features before he gives you a determined look. “So, I promised everyone that I’d wait for tonight while we were at the party… but I don’t think I want to wait that long.”  He tells you. “You’ll just have to work on your surprised face.”

Your brows furrow in confusion.  “What are you talking about?”

His arms loosen their grip on you so he can freely sit up and turn to open the drawer in his bedside table.  He riffles around the back of the drawer, pulling something out, he closes it back up and rolls over to face you once more.  In his hand is a small, black, velvet box.

Your breath hitches in your throat the second you see it.  Your widened gaze flicks back up to his and the sincerity you see in his eyes only confirms what you think might be in the box.  “I honestly don’t know how I managed to survive 99 whole years without you. Because now that I have you, I can’t bear the thought of even going a day without seeing your face or hearing your voice.  You are my everything, Angel.  You are the only thing to make me think that maybe I’m not actually the monster HYDRA turned me into.  That maybe I  _do_  actually deserve to be happy. A true monster wouldn’t deserve someone as beautiful and pure as you are.  You are a burst of light in a darkened room.  You’re a golden sunrise after a stormy night.  You’re…  You’re an angel,” he laughs breathlessly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

He opens the box, showcasing the shiny, polished ring that rests inside.  “Y/N, you’re the love of my life.  My heart belonged to you long before we met in Romania.  The last 99 years had been complete hell, not only because of HYDRA, but also because I didn’t have you by my side.  I can’t live without you.  You’re my soulmate.  You’re my angel.  You  _are_  my heartbeat.  And now… I’d  _really_  like the honor of calling you my wife.”  He releases a shaky breath, “Will you marry me?”

You can’t hold in the tears of overwhelming joy.  James Barnes was a man of few words.  He was better at taking action rather than talking.  To hear him so elegantly confess his love for you… It took your breath away.   You can’t seem to work passed the lump in your throat, so instead you nod enthusiastically.  Cradling the edge of his cheek, you lean up until your lips are pressed.

He sighs in relief, kissing you back fervently.  His arms wrap around you, pulling you in close.  “So, I’m guessing that’s a yes?” he asks for confirmation.

You let out a girlish giggle, reaching your hand up to wipe away some of your tears.  “Yes!  A thousand times, yes.  Of course I will marry you!”  You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his face with kisses.

He laughs, “Give me your hand, Angel.”

You do so, wiggling your fingers in front of him until he’s got the ring out.  It slides on easily, resting in place as if it’s been there the whole time.  “Oh, Buck…” you breathe, watching how it catches the light.

“Do you like it?” he asks, a hint of nervousness showing up again.

You rip your gaze away from it to look at him.  “It’s perfect,” you grin.

He finds your grin is contagious and pretty soon he’s matching it.  “ _You’re_  perfect.”

Tracing the underside of his jaw, you guide his face back to yours.  “You are the reason why my heart keeps beating, James.”

His hand curls into your hair.  “You’re the reason why my heart never stopped beating.”


	10. Bonus Chapter - Bucky's POV

There are a lot of things the Winter Soldier didn’t know as he walked away from the man he’d just pulled out of the river.  He didn’t know why he bothered to jump in after him.  Why he bothered to save the man, when his sole mission had been to let him die.  He didn’t know who that man was.  Hell, he didn’t even know who he,  _himself_ , was.

The one thing he  _did_  know was that he couldn’t stay in this city. He had to go into hiding.  Leaving his mission incomplete was going to piss off a whole lot of people.  Although, judging on the fallen airships and half destroyed building, the soldier wasn’t sure if there even  _was_  someone left to piss off.

He knew about several different HYDRA safe houses in nearby cities.  All he had to do was get himself there without being seen.  Amidst the chaos of the recent event, it wasn’t difficult. Everyone was more focused on the rising smoke clouding the sky, rather than the shadowed figure walking between them. He was quick to get a jacket to hide his arm, knowing it would quickly draw attention no matter how distracted people were.  Next thing to get was a car, and soon enough, he was on his way.

He pulls into the driveway of the safe house, glancing around to see if anyone has noticed his presence.  He walks up to the front door, tensing up when he sees the door is slightly ajar. He pushes it open more, straining his ears for any sign that someone else might be in the house.  When he doesn’t hear anything, he takes a cautious step inside.

Upon inspection, he finds that the house is indeed empty, but must have recently been vacated. There are dishes in the sink, the bed is unmade, and on the coffee table in the living room, there’s a plate with a half eaten sandwich.  He frowns when he sees it, not sure why the previous occupant would have left in such a hurry.

He also notices the corner of something silver sticking out from underneath the couch.  He reaches down to pull it out, realizing that it’s a laptop.  Moving to sit on the edge of the couch, he props the laptop on his knees and opens it. After a few seconds the screen lights up, and suddenly there’s a picture of his face.

His eyes widen in surprise, not expecting to see the image.  He almost doesn’t recognize himself.  His hair is shorter, and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.  He’s wearing some sort of military uniform.

The soldier frowns again, wondering why someone was using this laptop to research him.  He leans back against the couch, his mind working overtime to try to figure out what’s going on.  That’s when a soft, feminine scent drifts into his nose.  Of their own accord, his eyes fall shut and he takes in a deep lungful of the sweet scent.  It seems to fill his entire being and it makes one word scream throughout his head.   _Angel_.

His eyes snap open. She was  _here_?  How? Why?  It seems to only add to the multitude of questions bouncing around his already exhausted brain.  He wonders if  _she_  had been the one researching him.  How much did she know about him?  Probably more than he knew himself.

Why was she in a HYDRA safe house?  Did she work for HYDRA?  No, probably not.  If she did, they would have been using her on him this whole time.  Glancing at the half eaten sandwich once again, he gets a really uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.  What if she hadn’t been here willingly?  The hasty way the laptop had been thrown under the couch… The unmade bed…  He remembers having felt her heart rate spike not too long ago.  What if that had been her getting forced to leave the safe house?

He goes back to the laptop. It’s time to get some of these questions answered.  He reads through the page, hoping it’ll tell him enough information to get his memories running.  He needed to know if he already knew her.  Before all this, before HYDRA.  He can’t imagine himself ever being able to forget her, but considering he had pretty much zero memories at the moment, there was at least a chance that he had.

He’s kind of frustrated by the lack of information on the website.  Most of it had been about the man, Steve and then information about some type of museum exhibit.  Setting the laptop down on the coffee table, Bucky pushes himself up and moves to the desk in the corner.  He pulls open the drawers, riffling around in them until he finds a notebook.  He grabs a pen and settles back down on the couch. He begins to take notes on what he’s reading.  He goes to several different websites, occasionally gaining more information.  However, nowhere is there any mention of a wife or a girlfriend.

It brings him both pain and relief.  On one hand, it’s one less thing for him to feel guilty about.  If he had known her and had allowed HYDRA to wipe her from his memory, it would have eaten away at his insides.  On the other hand, it meant he wouldn’t be finding any joyous memories of being with her.  It made an ache of longing build deep within him.

Bucky decides that visiting the museum might be of some benefit.  There’s a chance it’ll have something that might jog his memories.  Maybe it’ll even have information on her.

He stares at the large glass structure in the center of the room.  He doesn’t even know how much time has passed.  He just can’t help thinking that the man depicted in the picture isn’t him.  Maybe it once was, but that’s definitely not who he is now.

“Can you believe that this guy became the Winter Soldier?”

A conversation between two teenagers catches Bucky’s attention.  “Wait, you mean the guy that tried to kill Captain America?  Where did you hear that?”

“Didn’t you know?  The Black Widow leaked all of S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA’s information onto the internet.”

Bucky’s shoulders stiffen.  He hadn’t known that.  He quickly walks away, his mind racing.  If his information was out there for everyone to see, then he needed to be even more careful with being out in public.

Wait.  He comes to a sudden realization.  If  _all_  information had truly been released, maybe there’d be some information on  _her_.  He by passes the rest of the museum, nothing else being more important than getting back to the safe house.

He’s certainly no computer expert, but he knows enough to figure out how to locate and decrypt some of the simpler files.  It takes several days of searching before he comes across something.  The Sleeping Beauty Project.

He waits with baited breath as the file downloads.  It seems to take forever.  When it finally opens, he feels all the breath leave his lungs.  There, at the top of the file, is a black and white photo of the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.  She’s smiling widely, her eyes soft.   Her hair is styled in a typical 1940’s fashion.  The photo seems to have been cropped from a larger picture, because Bucky can see the shoulder of a different person standing next to her.  Bucky figures the picture must have been taken while she was out with friends back before the war.

He scrolls down, his eyes scanning the page so fast, he wouldn’t be surprised if he develops a headache later on.  He soon begins to feel an ache in his cheeks.  It takes him a second to realize that it’s because he’s smiling.  His face is so unused to the gesture, it actually hurts.  And yet, he doesn’t particularly care, because he finally has a face and a name to put to his precious Angel.

“Y/N.” He mutters your name under his breath and it sound so completely natural, he feels like he’s known that name his whole life.

The file gives him a little bit of your history and then goes into detail about the coma-like state you’d fall into whenever he was put in cryo.  His heart skips a beat when he sees that there’s a video in the file.  He clicks on it and waits for it to load.

It starts with an image of a young Howard Stark.  Bucky can vaguely remember the man from during the war, although there’s something else about him that tugs at Bucky’s mind. Something he knows is probably important, but he chooses to ignore for the moment.

“Hello?  Is this thing on?” Howard asks, looking into the lens of the camera.

“Howard, what in God’s name is that thing doing in here?  This is a classified area.”  Bucky recognizes the feminine, British accent.

The image becomes blurry as the camera moves, soon coming to a stop with a frowning Peggy Carter in the frame.

“I just finished the design of this camera.  It’s much smaller than what everyone else has made, so far.  I’ve got to make sure it works,” Howard replies nonchalantly.

She rolls her eyes, knowing there’s no reasoning with him.

“Besides, as one of the founders of SHIELD, I have unlimited security access.  That’s means I can do whatever I want,” Howard continues.

“It really doesn’t,” Peggy argues.

“Camera’s already rolling, too late now, Peg.”  The camera’s on the move once more, Peggy’s sighs following after it.

A young woman, crouched over a desk comes into frame.  Bucky’s gut clenches when she turns her head to look toward the camera.

“Oh, what do we have here?” Howard asked, a suggestive tone in his voice.

“Stark, what are you doing?” You ask with a raised brow.

“Documenting.  You know, I’m sure you look pretty great on camera.  You should considering being in one of my films.”

Peggy laughs, “Howard, your films are awful.  Stick to inventing.  You’ll be doing the world a favor.”

Bucky grins even wider when he hears you laughing as well.  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.  Besides, I’m busy enough as is.”  You turn back to the desk, continuing your work.

“Have you found anything new?” Peggy asks, stepping up next to you.

You sigh sadly, “No.  There has to be a sign  _somewhere_.  Something we’ve over looked.  Something that will tell us where Bucky is.”

Bucky’s heart skips a beat when he hears you say his name for the first time.  You actually  _knew_  about him.  You had been  _looking_  for him.  He wonders how many times you both had been close to finding each other.  He was more determined now than ever to find you. Giving up was not an option.

It takes months of searching, combing the internet and going through the HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. files.  Most of it left him coming up empty or leading to dead ends. His frustrations grow more each day until he finally gets a hit.

_Woman Kidnapped in Broad Daylight?_

_Private Police Taking Things too Far._

_Young Woman Takes on a Group of Burly Men._

Bucky sees the different news articles, not daring to let himself hope until he’s verified them.  There’s a video on the first article.  It’s blurry and poor quality, probably shot on a cell phone. He sits up straighter when he sees you run passed, only to be stopped by several large men.  Not losing momentum, your fist flies out into the first man’s face.

Despite the situation, Bucky feels himself release a small chuckle, a sense of pride developing in him at watching you defend yourself.  You’re almost successful too, until Rollins comes for you.  Bucky’s muscles tense, recognizing the man.  His jaw ticks when he sees Rollins put a gun to your head. You and Rollins exchange words that Bucky can’t hear; however, the look of defiance remains on your face, even when the other agents cuff you and take you to their car.  The video ends soon after that.

Bucky reads the rest of the article, finding out that this had all occurred in Bucharest, Romania.  He closes his laptop and moves to gather his things from around the safe house.  Time for a trip.

Knowing that there’s no way he’d get through airport security with his arm, Bucky breaks into one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s abandoned facilities.  Now that the organization had fallen, these abandoned bases where all over the country, most left unguarded.  He high jacks a jet, and is very quickly on his way to Romania.

The search continues once he’s there.  He teaches himself how to hack into the traffic cameras, hoping to use the footage taken of the HYDRA SUV to tell him where they took you.  It takes several months before he can even get that far.  And once he does, it’s all a wasted effort, because the cameras go offline at one point, and Bucky completely looses track of the vehicle.

His hands clench in frustration and he has to step away from the laptop for fear of throwing it out the window.  He shrugs on his coat and places the baseball cap on his head before leaving his apartment.  He rubs his tired eyes as he descends the stairs.  He’s been looking at that computer screen for far longer than he should be, but he knows he can’t stop when he’s this close.

He hopes that some fresh air might help to clear his head a little.  He blends easily into the crowd, keeping his head lowered.  He soon finds himself at the market and figures he could benefit from getting a few items.  It’s on the way back to his apartment when disaster hits.

As soon as sees the newspaper with his likeness depicted on the front cover, he knows he’s in trouble.  He doesn’t know how much time he has, but he knows he needs to move fast.  Everything after that becomes one massive blur.  His survival instincts kick in, pushing him forward when the police come after him.  He knows that Steve is only trying to help, but Bucky’s number one priority is to get away so that he can get to you.  If he gets captured, that means no one will be coming for you, and he can’t let that be the case.  He doesn’t even want to think about what would happen if he were killed.

In the end, despite his valiant effort, he gets captured anyway.  He feels sick to his stomach when they shove him onto the ground and cuff him.  How was he supposed to get to you now?

Zemo activating his triggers is both a blessing and a curse.  One on hand, he adds a lot more to his already long list of casualties.  On the other hand, he’s back out.  He wants more than anything to go back to Romania to continue his search for you, but he knows that he needs to stop Zemo from unleashing the other soldiers first.

He mentally begs for you to hang in there. To wait for him, because he’s still coming.

When Tony comes after him in Siberia, his body is both physically and mentally exhausted.  But he fights back anyways, because he knows it’s not just his life on the line.  He can’t afford to give up, because you’re the one that would be paying the price.  He has to live.  He has to survive.  He  _can’t_  give up.  Not when he’s this close.

He and Steve have to carry each other out of the base, both breathing out tired sighs when they find the Black Panther standing in front of their jet.  Neither of them knows if they have the energy to fight him.  T’challa raises his hands up to remove his mask, “I am not here to fight you.  On the contrary, it would appear as though the two of you are in desperate need of an ally.”  He takes them both to Wakanda, knowing it is the only place on this planet where they will be safe from men like Secretary Ross and Tony Stark.

Bucky sits in peaceful silence as the doctors clean up what they can from what’s left of his arm.  Sometimes he gets glimpses of feeling from the area, but most of it is numb.  Steve stands a few paces back, watching over him.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Bucky asks.

Steve sighs, looking at his feet and crossing his arms over his chest.  “I could tell you, but you’re not going to like it.”

Bucky’s pretty sure he’s heard those words before. They had often come from the same man, but a much smaller version of him.  Bucky finds the corner of his mouth tilting into a smile.  “Bet you’ll tell me anyways,” he responds, the phrase also sounding familiar.

A fond smile crosses over Steve’s face. There might only be a few small pieces of the old Bucky left inside his friend, but at least they were there.  “I’m gonna break into The Raft to get my friends.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow.  “ _That’s_  how you’re going to ‘deal with it’?” Bucky asks, recalling their earlier conversation.

“I can’t just leave them there.”

Bucky sighs, shifting in his seat on the medical table, “Fine, then I’m going with you.”

Steve frowns, “No, you’re not.  You’re staying here.”

“The hell I am.”  Bucky’s jaw ticks in irritation.

“You can’t leave Wakanda,” Steve protests.

“And who’s going to keep me here?  You?”

“Buck-”

“I need to get back to Romania,” Bucky insists, cutting him off.

Steve is thrown for a loop for a second.  “Romania?  What…? Why?”

Bucky breathes out a slow breath, trying to steady he already frayed nerves.  “Because that’s where Y/N is.”

Steve gives him a curious look.  “Who’s Y/N?”

Bucky looks up at his friend with barely restrained desperation.  “My soulmate. Rollins took her shortly after the events in DC.  I managed to track them down to Bucharest, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint where, exactly.  I  _need_  to go back.  I need to find her.”

A look of realization crosses over Steve’s features.  “You’re sure that she’s there?”

Bucky glances away.  “I know that she was several months ago; however, I don’t have any recent confirmation.  But I’m also pretty sure they haven’t moved her.”

“How sure?”

Bucky sighs in exasperation.  “Look Steve, I did the best that I could with the limited amount of resources that I had.  I’m sorry if that isn’t good enough for you.”

Steve holds his hands up in defense, “All I’m saying is that we need to be positive on her location before we move in.  Any step we take off of Wakandan soil is a risk. You can’t find her if you’re in a prison cell.”

“I can provide you with the resources you need to find your soulmate,” T’challa speaks upon entering the room.  “The designs for your new arm are also under way.”

Bucky frowns, still unused to this hospitality. “Thank you, but that’s really not necessary.”

T’challa smiles in amusement.  “Do you really plan to take on a base of HYDRA agents with only one arm?”

“Bucky,” Steve starts, grabbing his attention.  “Wait a couple days to rest up.  Once you have your arm back, I promise, I will help you find Y/N.”

“I’ve already waited 99 years for her,” he protests.

Steve smirks, “Then what’s a few more days?”


End file.
